^m) 


i'^î*  ^ 


'■.\ 


1v 


THE 


CLERGY    AND    THE     PULPIT 


IN    THEIR 


RELATIONS   TO   THE   PEOPLE. 


T  II  E 


Clergy  and  the  Pulpit 


RELATIONS    TO    THE    PEOPLE. 


M.    L'ABBE    ISIDORE' MULLOIS, 

CHAPLAIN    TO    THE    EMPEROR    NAPOLEON    IIL,   AND    MLSSIONARY    APOSTOLIC. 

TRANSLATED    BY 

GEORGE    PERCY    BADGER, 

LATE    CHAPLAIN    IN    THE    DIOCESE    OF    BOMBAY,   AUTHOR    OF    "  THE    NESTORIANS 
AND    THEIR    RITUALS,"    ETC. 

first  american  edition. 

New- York  : 

THE    CATHOLIC    PUBLICATION    SOCIETY, 

Lawrence  Kehoe,  General  Agent, 

126   NASSAU   street. 
1869. 


i    GREEN,     PRINTERS, 


18    JACOB    STREET, 


Preface  to  the  American  Edition, 


This  excellent  translation  of  the  now  celebrat- 
ed work  of  the  Abbé  Mullois  is  presented  to 
the  American  public  with  every  assurance  that 
it  will  meet  with  a  most  cordial  welcome. 

It  is  a  live  book  ;  full  of  earnest  words,  fresh 
from  the  heart  no  less  than  from  the  head  of 
the  devout  and  zealous  author.  It  has  gained 
an  unwonted  popularity  in  France,  where  it 
has  already  passed  through  many  editions. 
No  less  than  twenty  thousand  copies  are  said 
to  be  in  the  hands  of  as  many  ecclesiastics. 

We  judge  it  to  be  one  of  the  most  timely 
books  that  could  be  offered  to  our  own  clergy, 
who  will  find  much  in  these  pages  to  encourage 
and  stimulate  them  in  their  arduous  pastoral 
duties.  The  sceptical  spirit  which  pervades 
a  large  mass  of  the  French  people,  hardly  yet 


6  Preface  to  the  American  Edition. 

recovered  from  the  fearful  shock  which  their 
faith  received  in  the  Revolution,  is  one  which, 
happily,  we  in  America  have  not  to  contend 
with  ;  and  the  suggestions  of  the  author  in  re- 
ference to  this  are,  of  course,  of  no  practical 
moment  to  us  :  but  the  principle  that  underlies 
every  subject  of  which  the  author  treats  is  a  uni- 
versal one,  applicable  at  all  times  and  to  every 
nation  :  "  To  address  men  well,  they  must  be 
loved  much."  This  is  the  title  of  the  first 
chapter,  and  the  key  to  the  whole  work. 

It  is  written  in  a  pleasing,  familiar  style, 
with  an  unction  that  endues  every  sentence 
with  an  irresistible  power  of  conviction  and 
persuasion.  Its  perusal  cannot  fail  of  exerting 
a  most  healthful  influence  upon  the  character 
and  tone  of  the  discourses  which  the  reader 
may  be  called  upon  by  virtue  of  his  office  to 
deliver  for  the  instruction  and  edification  of 
the  people  committed  to  his  spiritual  care. 


Author's    Preface. 


It  is  surprising  that  whereas,  during  the  last 
three  centuries,  many  books  have  been  pubHsh- 
ed  on  the  mode  of  preaching  to  the  higher 
classes,  scarcely  any  thing  has  been  written  on 
the  sam.e  subject  with  reference  to  the  people, 
or  lower  orders.  It  seems  to  have  been 
thought  that  the  latter  ought  to  be  satisfied 
with  the  crumbs  w^hich  might  fall  from  the 
table  provided  for  the  educated  portion  of 
society. 

Nevertheless,  nothing  could  be  more  opposed 
to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel  ;  which  is  special- 
ly addressed  to  the  poor  and  humble — "  He 
hath  anointed  Me  to  preach  to  the  poor." 
The  Fathers  of  the  early  Church  did  not  con- 
sider it  beneath  their  genius  to  write  treatises 
on  the  manner  of  communicating  religious 
instruction  to  the  people.  The  people  form 
nearly    tbe    whole   of     the    population.       In 


8  Author  s  Preface. 

France,  they  number  twenty-three  out  of  a 
total  of  twenty-five  millions  ;  yet,  strange  to 
say,  they  are  quite  overlooked.  The  educated 
two  millions  appear  to  have  assumed  that  they 
constitute  France,  and  that  France  has  so 
willed  it.  But  if  a  few  men  were  to  arise 
capable  of  laying  hold  of  the  instincts  of  the 
multitude,  were  it  only  of  one  of  the  emotions 
which  stir  them,  they  would  soon  undeceive 
those  who  fancy  that  the  people  are  under 
their  guidance.  We  know  something  by 
experience  on  that  score. 

There  is  a  prevailing  conviction  among  the 
well-disposed  that  nothing  but  religion  can 
save  us;  that  France  must  either  once  more 
become  Christian  or  perish.  But  in  order 
that  religion  may  exercise  a  beneficial  influ- 
ence over  the  masses,  it  must  be  brought  into 
contact  with  them  ;  and  that  can  only  be  done 
by  the  preaching  of  the  Word,  agreeably  with 
the  inspired  declaration  : — "  Faith  cometh  by 
hearing." 

It  is  much  more  difficult  than  is  imagined 
to  preach  to  the  common  people,  because  they 
are  so  little  conversant  w^ith  spiritual    things, 


Author's  Preface.  g 

and  so  much  absorbed  in  what  is  material.  It 
is  more  difficult  to  address  them  than  the 
wealthier  classes  ;  for,  in  addressing  the  latter, 
one  has  only  to  fall  in  with  the  current  of  their 
ideas  ;  whereas  in  preaching  to  the  former,  we 
have  to  bring  high  and  sublime  thoughts  with- 
in the  grasp  of  feeble  intelligences.  Besides, 
there  exists  among  the  masses  a  certain  amount 
of  knowledge  more  or  less  superficial,  and 
none  is  more  difficult  to  direct  than  a  half- 
taught  man. 

The  foregoing  considerations  have  led  us  to 
indite  this  little  treatise;  wherein  our  object 
has  been  not  to  lay  down  any  specific  rules, 
but  simply  to  set  forth  the  teachings  of  experi- 
ence. What  we  most  need  nowadays  is  a 
popular  religious  literature  to  meet  the  temper 
and  wants  of  the  people.  Such  a  literature 
does  not  exist.  It  should  be  based  entirely  on 
the  national  character  and  on  the  precepts  of 
the  Gospel.  Invested  with  those  two  qualities, 
it  would  become  an  irresistible  agency  for 
good,  and  would  act  as  powerfully  on  the  edu- 
cated few  as  on  the  unlettered  many.  It  might 
inaugurate  the  regeneration  of  our  literature 


10  Author  s  Preface. 

by  restoring  to  it  vitality,  naturalness,  and 
dignity.  The  time  has  come  for  taking  up  the 
cause  of  the  people  in  earnest.  The  com- 
munity generally  is  impressed  with  that  con- 
viction, and  manifests  a  praiseworthy  desire  to 
encourage  every  effort  for  ameliorating  their 
moral  condition.  Upward  of  one  hundred 
thousand  volumes  specially  designed  for  them 
are  sold  every  year.  Worldly-minded  men,  too, 
are  anxious  to  foster  the  movement;  finding 
that  those  who  show  a  disposition  to  benefit 
the  masses  are  sure  to  meet  with  countenance, 
sympathy,  and  even  veneration.  Moreover,  we 
are  at  present  in  the  enjoyment  of  profound 
calm.  Heretofore,  the  apology  for  delay  was  : 
— "  Let  us  wait  to  see  the  upshot  of  passing 
events  ;  for  who  knows  what  may  become  of 
us;  who  knows  but  that  we  may  be  driven 
from  our  own  homes  .r^"  The  evil-disposed 
have  had  their  day;  let  us  see  what  honest 
folk   may  and  can  do. 

Let  us  mutually  co-operate,  piously  and  chari- 
tably, to  become  once  more  a  united  people  and 
country — a  France  with  one  heart  and  one  soul. 
'Twill  be  the  beginning  of  blessedness. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
Preface  to  the  American  Edition, 5 


Preface  by  the  Author, 


CHAPTER  I. 
to  address  men  well,  they  must  be  loved  much. 

The  Gospel  enjoins  universal  Benevolence — The  Men  of  the  pre- 
sent Age  have  a  special  Claim  to  our  Love — The  success  of 
Preaching  depends  upon  our  loving  them — Wherein  true 
Apostolical  Eloquence  consists,        15 

CHAPTER  IL 

the  people. 

The  actual  State  of  the  People — Their  good  and  bad  Qualities — 
The  People  in  large  Cities — The  People  in  small  Towns — 
The  People  in  rural  Districts — How  to  benefit  these  Three 
Classes  of  the  People — One  powerful  Means  is  to  act  upon 
the  People  through  the  upper  Classes,  and  upon  the  latter 
through  the  former, 40 

CHAPTER  IIL 

the  order  of  a  sermon. 

The  Exordium — Divisions — Proofs — Are  there  many  Unbeliev- 
ers in  France  ? — Manner  of  refuting  Objections,    -    -    ■    -     118 


1 2  Contents. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   SERMON   SHOULD   BE  POPULAR. 

Page 
What  constitutes  true  Popularity  ? — Popularity  in  Words,  in 
Thought,  in  vSentiment — One  of  the  most  popular  Sentiments 
in  France  is  Patriotism — Means  to  utilize  that  Sentiment — The 
Relationship  between  Popularity  and  Genius — Demosthenes 
— Saint  John  Chrysostom — Daniel  O'Connell, 136 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE   SERMON  SHOULD   BE   PLAIN. 

An  obscure  Sermon  is  neither  Christian  nor  French — Abuse  of 
philosophical  Terms — Philosophical  Speculations  not  popular 
amongst  us — The  French  mind  is  clear  and  logical — Plainness 
of  Speech — Plainness  of  Thought — Starting  from  the  Known 
to  the  Unknow^n — Metaphors — Similes — Parables — Facts — 
Père  Lejeune — M.  l'Abbé  Ledreuil,    .----.--160 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  SERMON  SHOULD  BE  SHORT. 

The  Discourses  of  the  Fathers  were  short — The  French  Mind  is 
quick  to  apprehend — Sermons  are  generally  too  long  —  Ser- 
mons of  Ten,  Seven,  and  of  Five  Minutes,    183 

CHAPTER  VII. 

TACT  AND  KINDLINESS. 

We  should  assume  that  our  Hearers  are  what  we  wish  them  to  be 
— Reproaches  to  be  avoided — How  to  address  Unbelievers — 
Special  Precautions  to  be  taken  in  small  Towns  and  Rural  Dis- 
tricts— How  to  treat  Men  during  times  of  public  Commotion 
— Forbearance  due  to  the  Church  for  being  obliged  to  receive 
Money  from  the  Faithful, 197 


Contents.  1 3 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

INTEREST,    EMOTION,   AND  ANIMATION. 

Page 
We  should  endeavor  to  excite  Interest  by  Thoughts,  by  Sallies  or 
Epigrams,  by  Studies  of   Men  and   Manners — The  Truth 
should  be  animated — The  Père  Ravignan— The  Père  Lacor- 
daire — The  Heart  is  too  often  absent, 222 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE   POWER  AND  ACCENT   OF  CONVICTION. 

The  Ii^*vine  Word  has  always  been  the  first  Power  in  the  World — 
The  Gospel  still  the  first  of  Books — There  can  be  no  Chris- 
tian Eloquence  without  the  Accent  of  personal  Conviction,      243 

CHAPTER  X. 

ACTION. 

Action  should  be  :  first,  true  and  natural  ;  secondly,  concentrated  ; 
thirdly,  edifying — It  should  be  cultivated — How  cultivated  by 
the  Society  of  Jesus — Suggestions, 254 

CHAPTER  XL 

STUDY. 

Study  a  Duty — The  State  of  the  World  calls  for  Knowledge  on  the 
part  of  the  Clergy — Knowledge  has  always  been  one  of  the 
Glories  of  Religion — All  the  eminent  ]\Ien  in  the  Church  were 
Men  of  Study — Reasons  adduced  for  not  studying,  answered  ; 
Want  of  Leisure,  natural  Aptitude,  the  Plea  of  having  already 
studied  sufficiently  ;  that  one  is  fully  equal  to  the  Require- 
ments of  the  People  committed  to  his  Charge,       ....    275 


14  Contents. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ZEAL. 

Page 
The  Excellency  of  Zeal — Love  for  the  Body  should  be  coupled 
with  Love  for  the  Soul — The  Zeal  of  the  Wicked — How 
Zeal  should  be  exercised — Associations  : — of  Apprentices  ; — 
— of  Operatives  ; — Conferences  of  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul  ; — of 
Domestics  ; — of  Clerks  ; — of  the  Young — Circulation  of  good 
Books — Happy  Results  of  the  same — The  Advantages  and 
Difficulties  of  Opposition — Great  Occasions, 287 


THE 


CLERGY    AND    THE     PULPIT 


THEIR    RELATIONS    TO    THE    PEOPLE. 


CHAPTER    L 

TO  ADDRESS  MEN  WELL,  THEY  MUST  BE  LOVED  MUCH. 

The  Gospel  enjoins  universal  Benevolence — The  Men  of  the  present 
Age  have  a  special  Claim  to  our  Love — The  Success  of  Preach- 
ing depends  upon  our  loving  them — Wherein  true  Apostolical 
Eloquence  consists. 

Many  rules  of  eloquence  have  been  set  forth,  but, 
strange  to  say,  the  first  and  most  essential  of  all  has 
been  overlooked,  namely.  Charity.  ...  To  address 
men  well,  they  must  be  loved  much.  Whatever  they 
may  be,  be  they  ever  so  guilty,  or  indifferent,  or  un- 
grateful, or  however  deeply  sunk  in  crime,  before  all 
and  above  all,  they  must  be  loved.  Love  is  the  sap 
of  the  Gospel,  the  secret  of  lively  and  effectual  preach- 
ing, the  magic  power  of  eloquence.  .  .  .  The 
end  of  preaching  is  to  reclaim  the  hearts  of  men  to 
God,  and  nothing  but  love  can  find  out  the  myste- 


1 6  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

rious  avenues  which  lead  to  the  heart.  We  are  al- 
ways eloquent  when  we  wish  to  save  one  whom  we 
love  ;  we  are  always  listened  to  when  we  are  loved. 
But  when  a  hearer  is  not  moved  by  love,  instead  of 
listening  to  the  truth,  he  ransacks  his  mind  for  some- 
thing wherewith  to  repel  it  :  and  in  so  doing  human 
depravity  is  seldom  at  fault. 

If,  then,  you  do  not  feel  a  fervent  love  and  pro- 
found pity  for  humanity — if  in  beholding  its  miseries 
and  errors  you  do  not  experience  the  throbbings,  the 
holy  thrillings  of  Charity — be  assured  that  the  gift  of 
Christian  eloquence  has  been  denied  you.  You  will 
not  win  souls,  neither  will  you  ever  gain  influence 
over  them,  and  you  will  never  acquire  that  mxost 
excellent  of  earthly  sovereignties — sovereignty  over 
the  hearts  of  men. 

I  may  be  mistaken,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
tradition  of  this  great  evangelical  charity  has  declin- 
ed among  us.  I  hasten  to  add,  however,  that  this  is 
the  fault  of  the  age,  of  its  injustices  and  sarcasms.  It 
has  dealt  so  hardly  with  Christianity,  and  has  been  so 
ungrateful  toward  it,  that  our  souls  have  become  em- 
bittered, and  our  words  have  been  sometimes  cold 
and  dry  :  like  the  mere  words  of  a  man  and  nothing 
more.     But  that  bitterness  is  passing  away. 

Religion  in  France,  at  the  present  day,  is  in  the 
condition  of  a  mother  who  meets  with  indifférence 
and  abuse  from  her  son.     The  first  outburst  of  her 


To  address  Men  zvell,  they  nutst  be  loved  much.     1 7 

heart  is  one  of  pain  and  repugnance  ;  but  soon  the 
better  part  of  her  nature  gains  the  ascendency,  and 
she  says  within  herself:  "  After  all,  it  is  true  that  he 
is  wicked  ;  it  is  also  true  that  he  fills  me  with  grief, 
and  is  killing  me  with  anguish  ;  nevertheless,  he  is 
still  my  child,  and  I  am  still  his  mother.  ...  I 
cannot  help  loving  him,  so  great  is  his  power  over 
me.  Let  them  say  what  they  will,  I  still  love  him. 
.  .  .  Would  to  God  that  he  had  a  desire  to  return  ! 
Would  that  he  might  change  !  How  readily  would  I 
pardon  every  thing  and  forget  all  !  .  .  .  How,  then, 
can  I  enjoy  a  moment's  happiness  whilst  knowing 
that  he  is  wicked  or  wretched  V  .  .  .  This  is 
what  Religion  and  those  who  represent  it  have  felt. 
We  have  been  wounded  ;  we  have  been  made  to  suf- 
fer cruelly.  Yes,  men  have  been  unjust  and  ungrate- 
ful :  but  these  same  are  our  brethren  still,  still  our 
children.  And  can  we  be  happy  while  we  see  them 
wicked  and  miserable  .''  Have  they  not  already  suf- 
fered enough  t  .  .  .  .  The  question  is  not  to 
ascertain  what  they  are  worth,  but  to  save  them  such 
as  they  are.  Our  age  is  a  great  prodigal  son  ;  let  us 
help  it  to  return  to  the  paternal  home.  Now  is  the 
time  to  recall  the  admirable  words  of  Fenelon  : — ''  O 
ye  pastors,  put  away  from  you  all  narrowness  of  heart. 
Enlarge,  enlarge  your  compassion.  You  know  noth- 
ing if  you  know  merely  how  to  command,  to  reprove, 
to   correct,  to  expound   the   letter  of  the   law.     Be 


1 8  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pjdpit. 

fathers,  .  .  .  yet  that  is  not  enough  ;  be  as 
mothers." 

This  large  love  for  men,  alike  for  the  good  and  the 
evil,  is  the  pervading  spirit  of  the  Gospel.  It  is  the 
true  spirit  of  Christianity.  Its  power  was  felt  by  our 
fathers  in  the  sacred  ministry,  and  it  governed  their 
lives. 

Look  at  Saint  Paul,  that  great  missionary  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  A  stream  of  love  flows  from  his 
apostolic  soul.  He  did  not  suffer  himself  to  be  dis- 
concerted by  the  failings,  the  vices,  or  the  crimes  of 
men.  His  heart  uplifts  him  above  such  considera- 
tions, and  he  overcomes  human  prejudices  and  errors 
by  the  power  of  his  charity.  Let  us  hear  him  : — "  O 
ye  Corinthians,  our  mouth  is  open  unto  you,  our 
heart  is  enlarged.  Ye  are  not  straitened  in  us,  but 
ye  are  straitened  in  your  own  bowels.  .  .  .  Be  ye 
also  enlarged.  For  though  ye  have  ten  thousand  in- 
structors in  Christ,  yet  have  ye  not  many  fathers  : 
for  in  Christ  Jesus  I  have  begotten  you.  I  seek  not 
yours,  but  you,  .  .  .  and  I  will  very  gladly  spend 
and  be  spent  for  you  ;  though  the  more  abundantly 
I  love  you,  the  less  I  be  loved."  And,  again  : — 
"  Would  to  God  ye  could  bear  with  me  a  little  in  my 
folly  :  and,  indeed,  bear  with  me.  For  I  am  jealous 
over  you  with  godly  jealousy.  Wherefore  t  because 
I  love  you  not }     God  knoweth."  * 

*    2  Ccr.  vi.    -13.     I  Cor.  iv.  15.     2  Cor,  xii.  14,  15  j  xi.  i,  2,  n. 


To  address  AI  en  zvell,  they  imist  be  loved  inueh.     [9 

"  I  say  the  truth  in  Christ  that  I  He  not,"  saith  he 
to  the  Romans  ;  "  I  have  great  heaviness,  and  con- 
tinual sorrow  in  my  heart.  For  I  could  wish  that 
myself  were  accursed  from  Christ  for  my  brethren."  * 
And  addressing  the  Galatians,  he  says  : — "  Breth- 
ren, be  as  I  am  ;  for  I  am  as  ye  are.  Ye  know  how 
.  .  .  through  infirmity  of  the  flesh  I  preached 
the  Gospel  to  you  at  first.  And  my  temptation, 
which  was  in  my  flesh,  ye  despised  not,  nor  rejected. 
.  .  .  Where  is,  then,  the  blessedness  ye  spake  of.'* 
For  I  bear  you  record,  that,  if  it  had  been  possible, 
ye  would  have  plucked  out  your  own  eyes,  and  have 
given  them  to  me.  Am  I  therefore  become  your 
enemy  because  I  tell  you  the  truth  t  .  .  ,  My 
little  children,  of  whom  I  travail  in  birth  again  until 
Christ  be  formed  in  you."  f  .  .  .  And,  again, 
writing  to  the  Philippians  : — "  It  is  meet  for  me  to 
think  this  of  you  all,  because  I  have  you  in  my  heart. 
.  .  .  For  God  is  my  record,  how  greatly  I  long 
after  you  all  in  the  bowels  of  Jesus  Christ.  .  .  . 
Yea,  and  if  I  be  offered  upon  the  sacrifice  and  ser- 
vice of  your  faith,  I  joy,  and  rejoice  with  you  all."  % 

Alas  !  in  this  our  day  we  see  around  us  the  same 
men,  the  same  frailties,  the  same  passions.  Let  us 
aim  at  possessing  the  same  apostolical  heart. 

In  like  manner  Saint  Chrysostom.     .     .     .     what 

*  Rom.  ix.  2,  3.  t  Gal.  iv.  12-16,  19.         X  Philip,  i.  7,  8;  ii.  17. 


20  TJie  Clergy  ajid  the  Ptdpit. 

love,  what  charity,  what  devotedness  dwelt  in  the 
heart  of  that  Christian  orator  !  And  as  regards  the 
people  with  whom  he  had  to  deal  ;  what  laxity,  what 
vices,  what  baseness  had  he  not  to  contend  against  ! 
Nevertheless,  his  heart  is  inflamed  with  charity,  his 
yearnings  are  kindled.  Exclamations  of  pain,  the 
plaintive  accents  of  pity  escape  from  him  ;  and  even 
when  he  grows  angry,  he  entreats,  he  sues  for  par- 
don. 

"  I  beseech  you,"  said  he  to  the  faithful,  "  to  re- 
ceive me  with  affection  when  I  come  here  ;  for  I  have 
the  purest  love  for  you.  I  feel  that  I  love  you  with 
the  tenderness  of  a  father.  If  occasionally  I  reprove 
you  rather  sharply,  it  arises  from  the  earnest  desire 
which  I  have  for  your  salvation.  ...  If  you  re- 
ject my  words,  I  shall  not  shake  off  the  dust  of  my 
feet  against  you.  Not  that  herein  I  would  disobey 
the  Saviour,  but  because  the  love  which  He  has  given 
me  for  you  prevents  my  doing  so.  .  .  .  But,  and 
if  you  refuse  to  love  us,  at  least  love  yourselves  by 
renouncing  that  sad  listlessness  which  possesses  you. 
It  will  suffice  for  our  consolation  that  we  see  you  be- 
coming better,  and  progressing  in  the  ways  of  God. 
Hereby,  also,  will  my  affection  appear  still  greater, 
that  while  having  so  much  to  youward,  you  shall 
have  so  little  toward  me.  .  .  .  We  give  you  what 
we  have  received,  and,  in  giving  it,  ask  nothing  but 
your  love  in  return.     If  we  are  unworthy  of  it,  love 


To  address  Men  well,  they  must  be  loved  imich.    2 1 

us  notwithstanding,  and  perchance  your  charity  may 
render  us  deserving." 

"  You  love  me  and  I  love  you,"  said  he,  addressing 
the  believers,  "and  I  would  willingly  give  you  my  life, 
and  not  merely  that  small  service  which  I  render  by 
preaching  the  Gospel  unto  you." 

In  consequence  of  sickness  he  had  been  obliged  to 
go  into  the  country.  On  his  return  he  thus  address- 
ed his  audience  : — "  You  thought  of  me,  then,  during 
my  absence.  For  my  part,  it  was  impossible  for  me 
to  forget  you.  .  .  .  Even  when  sleep  closed  my 
bodily  eyes,  the  strength  of  your  affection  for  me 
opened  the  eyes  of  my  mind  insomuch  that  while 
sleeping  I  often  fancied  that  I  was  addressing  you. 
.  .  .  I  have  preferred  to  return  with  the  remains 
of  my  ailment  rather  than  by  staying  longer  away  to 
do  any  injury  to  your  charity  ;  for  while  I  was  in  the 
country  you  were  unremitting  in  the  expression  of 
your  grief  and  condolence.  This  was  the  subject  of 
all  your  letters  ;  and  I  am  not  less  grateful  for  your 
grief  than  for  your  praise,  since  one  must  be  capable 
of  loving  in  order  to  grieve  as  you  have  done.  .  . 
Hence,  as  I  am  no  longer  ill,  let  us  satisfy  one  an- 
other ;  if,  indeed,  it  be  possible  that  we  should  be 
satisfied  ;  for  love  is  insatiable,  and  the  continual 
enjoyment  of  it  by  those  whom  it  endears  only  in- 
flames it  still  more.  This  is  what  was  felt  by  Saint 
Paul,  that  foster-child  of  Charity,  when  he  said  :  '  Owe 


22  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

no  man  any  thing  but  to  love  one  another  ;'  for  that 
debt  is  always  being  paid,  yet  is  never  discharged."  * 

Also  the  following  passage,  which  is  quite  to  the 
purpose  here  : — "  You  are  to  me  in  the  place  of  father, 
mother,  brothers  and  children.  You  are  every  thing 
to  me,  and  no  joy  or  sorrow  can  affect  me  in  compari- 
son with  that  which  concerns  you.  Even  though  I 
may  not  have  to  answer  for  your  souls,  I  should  not 
be  the  less  inconsolable  were  you  to  perish  ;  just  as 
a  father  is  not  consoled  for  the  loss  of  his  son,  al- 
though he  may  have  done  all  in  his  power  to  save 
him.  That  I  may  some  day  be  found  guilty,  or  that 
I  maybe  justified  before  the  awful  tribunal,  is  not  the 
most  pressing  object  of  my  solicitude  and  of  my  fear  ; 
but  that  you  may  all,  without  exception,  be  saved, 
all  made  happy  forever,  that  is  enough  :  that  is  also 
necessary  to  njy  personal  happiness,  even  if  the  divine 
justice  should  have  to  reprove  me  for  not  having 
discharged  my  ministry  as  I  ought  ;  although,  in  that 
respect,  my  conscience  does  not  upbraid  me.  But 
what  matters  it  by  whom  you  are  saved,  provided 
that  you  are  saved  1  And  if  any  one  is  surprised  to 
hear  me  speak  in  this  manner,  it  is  because  he  knows 
not  what  it  is  to  be  a  father."  f 

On  the  other  hand,  if  men  ever  ought  to  be  loved, 
if,  above  all,  the  heart  of  the  Christian  priest  ought  to 
be  touched,  moved  even  to  tears  with  deep  compas- 

*  Second  Homily  on  Repentance.  t  Homily  iii.  on  the  Acts. 


To  addirss  Men  well,  they  must  be  loved  much.    23 

sion  for  humanity,  this  is  preeminently  the  time. 
Doubtless,  humanity  is  deserving  of  blame,  but  it  is 
also  most  worthy  of  pity.  Who,  indeed,  can  be  bold 
enough  to  hate  it  .'*  Let  us  rather  grieve  for  it  : 
grieve  for  the  men  of  the  world  who  are  truly  miser- 
able. .  .  .  What  truths  can  they  lay  hold  of  to 
resist  themselves,  to  fill  the  void  in  their  souls,  to 
control  themselves  under  the  trials  of  life  }  All  have 
been  assailed,  shaken,  denied,  overturned.  What  are 
they  to  do  in  the  midst  of  this  conflict  of  affirmations 
and  negations  .-*  Hardly  has  a  powerful  and  divine 
truth  been  presented  to  them,  than  one  of  those  so- 
called  talented  men  has  come  forward  to  sully  it  by 
his  gainsaying  or  scornful  derision. 

Above  all,  the  rising  generation  calls  for  our  pity, 
because  it  has  so  long  been  famished.  The  half 
of  its  sustenance  has  been  withheld  from  it  by  the 
cruelty  of  the  age. 

But  let  us  do  it  justice  :  youth  appreciates  sincerity 
and  candor  above  every  thing.  It  is  straightforward, 
and  hates  nothing  so  much  as  duplicity  and  hypocrisy. 
Well,  when  a  young  man  awakens  into  life,  what  does 
he  see  around  him  }  Contradiction  and  inconsistency, 
a  very  Babel  of  tongues  :  a  discordant,  a  hellish  con- 
cert. One  bawls  out  to  him,  "  Reason  !"  another 
"  Faith  !"  here  some  bid  him  "  Suffer  !"  there  others 
tell  him  to  "  Rejoice  !"  but  soon  all  join  in  the  chorus, 
"  Money,  my  son,  money  !"     What,  we  ask,  is  a  youth 


24  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

of  eighteen,  with  all  his  besetting  passions,  to  do  in 
the  midst  of  confusion  like  this  ? 

It  were  well  if  even  the  domestic  hearth  afforded 
an  asylum  from  this  turmoil  ;  but,  unhappily,  it  as- 
sumes there  its  most  flagrant  form  in  father  and 
mother.  There  we  find  one  building  up,  and  the 
other  destroying.  The  mother  prays,  the  father  is 
prayerless  ;  the  mother  is  a  communicant,  the  father 
is  not  ;  the  mother  confesses,  the  father  does  not  ; 
the  mother  speaks  well  of  religion,  the  father  derides 
it.  .  .  .  What,  we  ask  again,  is  a  youth  to  do  with  his 
affections  under  circumstances  like  these  }  Reason 
tells  him  that  if  there  is  a  truth,  it  must  be  the  same 
for  all  ;  if  there  is  a  rule  of  morals,  it  should  apply 
to  all  ;  that  if  there  is  a  religion,  it  should  be  the 
religion  of  all.  Next,  he  is  tempted  to  believe  that 
he  is  being  made  sport  of,  and  that  the  words  vice, 
tntth,  and  vwtiœ  are  nothing  but  bare  words  after  all. 
Such  is  the  aspect  of  things  presented  to  the  rising 
generation  ;  and  were  it  not  that  there  is  something 
naturally  good  and  generous  in  the  hearts  of  the 
young,  how  much  would  they  despise  their  prede- 
cessors in  life  !  .  .  . 

They  are  told  of  the  existence  of  duties,  laws,  and 
other  subjects  of  vast  importance,  and  yet  they  see 
men  who  ought  to  be  serious  spending  their  time  in 
material  pursuits,  in  hoarding  money,  or  in  sensual 
gratifications. 


To  address  Men  zvell,  they  must  be  loved  much.    25 

Is  there  not  in  all  this  enough  to  distress  a  sen- 
sitive mind,  and  to  lead  it  to  utter  the  complaint, — 
"  O  God  !  wherefore  hast  Thou  placed  me  in  the 
midst  of  such  contradictions  ?  What  am  T  to  do  ? 
My  father,  the  man  whom  I  am  bound  to  resemble 
most  on  earth,  can  I  condemn  him  ?  Can  I  any  the 
more  blame  my  mother,  or  charge  her  with  weakness 
— my  mother,  whose  influence  over  me  is  so  strong  ? 
What,  then,  am  I  to  do  ?  What  must  I  become  ?  Is 
life  a  desert  wherein  I  am  lost  ?  Is  there  no  one  to 
guide  me  ?  Those  who  should  direct  are  the  first  to 
mislead  me.  My  father  says  :  '  Do  as  I  do  ;  follow  my 
example/  My  mother,  with  all  the  power  of  maternal 
affection,  says  :  ^  No,  no,  my  son  ;  do  not  follow  your 
father,  for  if  you  do  you  will  perish.'  "  What  shame 
should  we  take  to  ourselves  for  a  state  of  things  like 
this,  and  how  much  should  we  pity  those  who  are  its 
victims  ! 

And  then  the  lower  classes — the  people, — who  do 
penance  under  our  eyes  in  toil  and  suffering,  how  can 
we  help  loving,  how  avoid  compassionating,  them  .? 
Undoubtedly,  they  have  their  faults,  their  frailties, 
and  their  vices  ;  but  are  we  not  more  blameworthy 
than  they }  The  people  are  always  what  they  are 
made.  Is  it  their  fault  if  the  pernicious  doctrines 
and  scandals  of  the  higher  orders  have  stained  the 
lower  classes  of  society  1  Moreover,  they  have  been 
treated  without  pity  and  without  mercy.     They  have 


20  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

been  despoiled  of  all  :  even  that  last  resource,  hope,  has 
been  taken  from  them.  They  have  been  forbidden  to 
dream  of  happiness.  Heartless  men  have  interposed 
between  them  and  heaven,  and  have  said  to  them, — 
"  Listen  ;  your  toil,  your  trials,  your  rags,  your  hun- 
ger, the  hunger  of  your  wives  and  children — such  is 
your  lot.  You  have  nothing  else  to  hope  for  ;  except, 
perchance,  the  pleasures  of  revelry."  They  have 
been  deprived  of  every  thing  :  they  had  hopes  of  a 
better  future,  which  have  been  taken  from  them  ; 
they  had  God  above,  who  has  been  robbed  from 
them,  and  they  have  been  told  that  heaven  con- 
sisted in  the  enjoyments  of  earth.  Meanwhile,  they 
are  miserable  ;  and  being  miserable  are,  as  it  were, 
doomed  already  :  yet,  what  have  they  done  to  merit 
this  } 

Yes,  there  has  been  no  pity  shown  to  the  people  ; 
for  has  not  the  present  age  regarded  Christianity  as  a 
delusion  }  Christianity  ought  to  have  been  respected 
among  the  people,  because  it  benefited  them,  because 
it  alleviated  their  wretchedness.  But  no,  a  cruel  age 
has  had  the  fell  courage  to  snatch  it  from  them.  A 
tale  is  told  of  a  prisoner  who  became  deeply  attached 
to  a  spider,  which  served  to  while  away  the  tedium  of 
his  captivity.  He  fed  it  with  his  own  food,  and  it 
was  his  delight  to  see  it  scamper  about  his  cell  ;  but 
the  jailer,  noticing  this  innocent  gratification,  crushed 
the  insect.     .     .     .     The  spider  was  undoubtedly  an 


To  address  Meîi  well  y  they  must  be  loved  much.    2  J 

insignificant  thing  ;  but  the  jailer's  conduct  was  harsh, 
and  all  would  denounce  it  as  a  gratuitously  brutal 
act.  Well,  then,  if  religion  among  the  people  had 
been  regarded  merely  as  the  spider  of  this  poor 
prisoner,  it  ought  to  have  been  respected,  because 
it  might  have  done  them  good.  On  the  contrary, 
the  laborer  has  been  denied  the  hope  that  there 
will  be  a  time  of  rest  ;  the  sufferer,  that  some  day 
there  will  be  consolation  ;  the  wronged  has  not  been 
allowed  to  anticipate  that  hereafter  justice  will  be 
meted  out  ;  the  mother  who  deplores  the  loss  of 
her  child  has  been  denied  the  hope  that  some  day 
she  shall  behold  him  again.  Every  thing  has  been 
taken  from  the  people,  and  nothing  has  been  left 
them  but  material  pleasures  to  be  enjoyed  at  rare 
intervals. 

What  a  field  is  here  opened  out  for  the  exercise  of 
love,  of  compassion,  and  of  pity  !  O  ye  poor  people 
whom  Christ  loved  !  is  it  that  all  your  struggles  and 
trials  are  merely  a  foretaste  of  eternal  misery  ?  If 
you  are  to  suffer  here,  and  to  suffer  also  after  death, 
then  you  must  needs  suffer  forever  !  But  that  we 
cannot  allow,  and  after  the  example  of  Christ,  we 
should  say  to  ourselves  : — "  I  have  pity  upon  the 
multitude,  for  if  I  send  them  away  fasting  they  will 
faint  by  the  way." 

Lastly,  on  this  Charity  depends  the  success  of 
evangelical  preaching. 


28  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

To  be  co-workers  with  Christ  in  regenerating  and 
saving  mankind,  we  must  love  it  as  He  loved.  He 
first  did  men  good,  then  He  addressed  them.  Hence 
it  was  that  the  people,  unmindful  of  their  most  urgent 
wants,  followed  Him  exclaiming  :  "  Never  man  spake 
like  this  man." 

Let  us  never  forget  that  the  object  of  preaching  is 
to  turn  men  from  wrong-doing,  and  to  lead  them  to 
that  which  is  good.  This  is  the  great  aim  of  the 
Christian  orator.  But  where  is  the  seat  of  good  and 
evil,  and  where  are  both  elaborated  "i  According  to 
the  divine  word,  ^' out  of  the  heart  proceed  evil 
thoughts,  murders,  adulteries,  fornications,  thefts, 
false  witness,  blasphemy." 

The  heart,  then,  must  be  touched,  moved,  laid  hold 
of  It  is  the  heart  which  receives  or  rejects  the 
truth  ;  which  says  to  it  :  "  Come,  I  welcome  you  ;" 
or,  "  Begone,  you  annoy  me  ;"  and  it  is  love  alone 
that  can  reach  the  heart  and  change  it.  An  Arab 
proverb  runs  thus  : — "  The  neck  is  bent  by  the  sword  ; 
but  heart  is  only  bent  by  heart."  If  you  love,  you 
yourself  will  be  loved  ;  the  truth  from  you  will  be 
loved  ;  even  self-sacrifice  will  be  an  act  of  love.  .  .  . 
What  we  most  want  nowadays  is  not  additional  know- 
ledge, for  nearly  all  of  us  know  full  well  what  we 
ought  to  do.  What  we  really  want  is  the  courage 
to  act,  the  energy  to  do  what  is  right.  Truth  has 
sadly  diminished  amongst  us,  and  its  characteristics 


To  address  Men  ivell,  tJiey  viust  be  loved  vuicJi.    29 

also.  What  we  need,  then,  is  a  style  of  preaching 
which  enlightens  and  sustains,  which  threatens  and 
encourages,  which  humbles  and  exalts,  and  which 
throughout  speaks  to  individuals,  saying,  "I  love 
thee." 

It  is  not  by  essays  of  reasoning,  any  more  than  by 
the  sword,  that  the  moral  world  is  to  be  swayed.  A 
little  knowledge,  much  sound  sense,  and  much  more 
heart — that  is  what  is  requisite  to  raise  the  great 
mass,  the  people,  and  to  cleanse  and  purify  them.  To 
be  able  to  reason  is  human,  very  human,  and  one  who 
is  a  man  and  nothing  more  may  possess  that  ability 
as  well  as  you,  perhaps  in  a  higher  degree.  But  to 
love,  to  devote  one's  self,  to  sacrifice  self,  is  something 
unearthly,  divine,  possessing  a  magic  power.  Self- 
devotion,  moreover,  is  the  only  argument  against 
which  human  malevolence  can  find  no  answer.    .    .    . 

You  may  employ  the  most  splendid  reasonings, 
clothed  in  the  grandest  phraseology,  and  yet  the 
mind  of  man  will  readily  find  wherewith  to  elude  them. 
Who  knows  but  that  French  wit,  by  one  malicious 
word,  may  not  upset  all  at  once  your  elaborate  struc- 
ture of  arguments  t  What  is  required  in  sacred  elo- 
quence is  something  new,  something  unexpected. 
Ask  you  what  it  is  }  It  is  love  ;  for  loving,  you  will 
surprise,  captivate  :  you  will  be  irresistible. 

For  it  is  useless  to  disguise  the  fact  that  in  France 
nowadays  there  is  scarcely  any  belief  in  disinterested- 


30  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

ness.  Even  the  people  are  beginning  to  think  that 
no  one  acts  without  a  motive  of  self-interest  ;  and 
their  thought  is  aptly  expressed  in  the  frank  and 
original  reply  of  a  poor  devil  who  was  brought  before 
the  correctional  police  for  having  inscribed  some 
Legitimist  sentences  on  a  wall.  The  president,  ob- 
serving his  tattered  garments,  and  his  any  thing  but 
aristocratic  appearance,  asked  him  if  he  was  really  a 
Legitimist.  "  By  no  means.  Monsieur  le  President," 
was  the  answer  ;  "  I  merely  do  as  others,  as  you  do, 
as  all  do  nowadays — I  work  for  those  who  feed  me!' 

But  when  the  people  meet  with  real  affection,  a 
thorough  devotedness,  then  they  are  overcome  at 
once  and  yield  heartily. 

You  visit  a  poor  family,  or  one  of  the  working- 
classes  in  a  large  town,  where  the  people  are  gene- 
rally frank,  and  hardly  know  how  to  conceal  their 
thoughts.  Do  not  be  surprised,  then,  if  something 
like  the  following  dialogue  should  take  place  : — 

"  Well,  sir,  but  who  pays  you  for  visiting  us  Ï' 

"  Nobody." 

"  What  interest,  then,  have  you  in  coming  ?" 

"  None  whatever,  beyond  that  of  wishing  to  benefit 
you  and  your  little  ones,  whom  I  love." 

"  I  can  scarcely  believe  it.  There  must  be  some- 
thing underhand  in  this." 

But  when  such  persons  are  convinced  that  you 
entertain  a  sincere  affection  for  them — that  there  is 


To  address  Men  well,  they  imtst  be  loved  much.    3  \ 

nothing  underhand  in  what  you  do — you  become  all- 
powerful.  The  disclosure  breaks  in  upon  them  like 
a  divine  revelation,  and  they  may  be  said  to  love  the 
truth  even  before  knowing  it.  Then  you  may  speak, 
entreat,  or  command  ;  you  will  be  listened  to,  you 
will  be  believed,  obeyed.  What  else,  indeed,  could 
any  do  who  love  you,  and  also  inspire  love  on  your  part  ? 

It  is  quite  right  to  reason  and  to  appeal  to  the 
intellect,  but  it  is  not  enough.  Human  malice  will 
never  be  at  a  loss  for  a  reply  to  your  arguments. 
You  may  be  acute,  logical,  endowed  with  learning 
and  talent,  the  right  may  be  most  clearly  on  your 
side,  and  yet  your  efforts  will  be  unproductive  ;  nay, 
you  will  often  be  defeated,  insomuch  that  it  may  be 
affirmed  that  he  who  uses  reason  only  shall  perish  by 
reason.  On  the  contrary,  love  causes  things  to  be 
regarded  from  a  different  point  of  view,  removes  diffi- 
culties, and  imparts  light  and  courage  simultaneously. 

You  say  to  a  worldly  woman  : — "  If  you  were  to 
occupy  yourself  a  little  in  good  works,  such  as  visit- 
ing the  poor."  ...  Forthwith  she  starts  a  thousand 
objections  against  the  suggestion  : — "  What,  I,  in  my 
position  !  ...  I  really  have  no  leisure.  I  have  my 
house,  my  children,  my  servants,  and  so  many  other 
things  to  attend  to.  Then,  my  health  is  so  wretched, 
and  my  husband  cares  for  nothing.  .  .  .  Besides,  it  is 
a  woman's  first  duty  to  look  after  her  domestic  con- 
cerns."    In  a  word,   she  instantly  bristles   up  with 


32  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

good  reasons.  You  encounter  a  pointed  defence 
everywhere,  and  no  gap  to  admit  your  arguments. 
Beware,  therefore,  of  reasoning  with  her.  Go  straight 
to  her  heart,  beget  charity  within  her,  make  her  to 
feel,  to  love,  and  soon  you  will  hardly  recognize  her 
as  the  same  individual,  for  the  change  will  be  almost 
instantaneous,  and  every  subsidiary  stumbling-block 
will  disappear.  Then  she  will  go  and  come,  suffer, 
be  humble,  self-denying,  examplary. 

Woman  is  cahed  the  feeble  sex.  True,  when  she 
does  not  love  ;  but  when  love  takes  possession  of  her 
soul,  she  becomes  the  strong,  the  able,  the  devoted 
sex.  She  then  looks  difficulties  in  the  face  which 
would  make  men  tremble. 

An  orator  of  high  intellectual  powers  occupies  a 
pulpit,  and  leaves  scarcely  any  results  behind  him. 
He  is  succeeded  by  one  of  ordinary  attainments,  who 
draws  wondering  crowds  and  converts  many.  The 
local  sceptics  are  amazed.  "This  man's  logic  and 
style,"  say  they,  "  are  weak  ;  how  comes  it  that  he  is 
so  attractive  T  It  comes  from  this,  that  he  has  a 
heart  ;  that  he  loves  and  is  loved  in  return.  So 
when  a  venerable  superior  of  missionaries*  wished 
to  learn  what  success  a  priest  had  -met  with  on  his 
tour,  he  generally  asked,  "Did  you  really  love  your 
cono-rejrations  ?"    If  the  answer  was  in  the  affirma- 


it»^ ^&" 


*This  clearly  refers  to  Home  Missionaries. — Ed. 


To  address  Men  zuell,  they  must  be  loved  much.    33 

tive,  the  pious  man  remarked — ^"Then  your  mission 
has  been  a  good  one." 

Have  a  heart,  then,  in  deahng  with  the  people  ; 
have  charity  ;  love,  and  cause  others  to  love,  to  feel, 
to  thrill,  to  weep,  if  you  wish  to  be  listened  to,  and 
to  escape  the  criticisms  of  the  learned  as  well  as  the 
ignorant.  Then  let  them  say  what  they  like,  let 
them  criticise  and  inveigh  as  they  please,  you  will 
possess  an  invincible  power.  What  a  grand  mission, 
Avhat  a  glorious  heritage  is  that  of  loving  our  fellow- 
men  !  Let  others  seek  to  lord  it  over  them,  and  to 
win  their  applause  ;  for  my  part,  I  prefer  holding 
out  a  hand  to  them,  to  bless  and  to  pity  them,  con- 
vinced by  a  secret  instinct  that  it  is  the  best  way  to 
save  them. 

I  have  already  remarked  that  our  language  has  not 
always  breathed  this  broad  and  tender  charity.  The 
injustice  and  unreason  which  we  have  had  to  en- 
counter have  made  us  somewhat  querulous,  and  we 
have  become  champions  when  we  should  have  re- 
mained fathers  and  pastors.  We  have  followed  the 
v^orld  too  much  into  the  arena  of  discussion.  We 
have  fancied  that  it  was  enough  to  prove  a  truth  in 
order  to  secure  its  adoption  into  the  habits  of  life. 
We  have  forgotten  that  Saint  François  de  Sales  con- 
verted 70,000  Protestants  by  the  sweetness  of  his 
charity,  and  not  one  by  argument.  Nevertheless, 
strange  enough,  much  is  urged  on  the  young  clergy- 


34  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

man  as  regards  the  necessity  and  mode  of  proving  a 
truth  and  of  constructing  a  sermon,  but  scarcely  any 
thing  on  the  necessity  and  manner  of  loving  his  au- 
dience. 

Just  look  at  the  young  priest  on  his  entrance  upon 
the  sacred  ministry.  He  is  armed  cap-à-pie  with  ar- 
guments, he  speaks  only  by  syllogisms.  His  dis- 
course bristles  with  now,  therefore,  consequently.  He 
is  dogmatic,  peremptory.  One  might  fancy  him  a 
nephew  of  one  of  those  old  bearded  doctors  of  the 
middle  ages,  such  as  Petit  Jean  or  Courte-Cuisse. 
He  is  disposed  to  transfix  by  his  words  every  oppo- 
nent, and  to  give  quarter  to  none.  He  thrusts,  cuts, 
overturns  relentlessly.  My  friend,  lay  aside  a  part 
of  your  heavy  artillery.  Take  your  young  man's, 
your  young  priest's  heart,  and  place  it  in  the  van  be- 
fore your  audience,  and  after  that  you  may  resort  to 
your  batteries  if  they  are  needed.  Make  yourself 
beloved, — be  a  father.  Preach  affectionately,  and 
your  speech,  instead  of  gliding  over  hearts  hardened 
by  pride,  will  pierce  even  to  the  dividing  of  the  joints 
and  marrow  ;  and  then  that  may  come  to  be  remark- 
ed of  you  which  was  said  of  aijother  priest  by  a  man 
of  genius  who  had  recently  been  reclaimed  to  a 
Christian  life  : — "  I  almost  regret  my  restoration,  so 
much  would  it  have  gratified  me  to  have  been  con- 
verted by  so  affectionate  a  preacher." 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  truth  should  not  be 


To  address  Men  well,  they  must  be  loved  much.    35 

set  forth  with  power  and  energy.  God  forbid  !  but 
it  should  be  seasoned  throughout  with  abundant 
charity.  It  is  only  those,  indeed,  who  love  much  and 
are  themselves  beloved,  who  possess  the  prerogative 
of  delivering  severe  truths  in  an  effectual  manner. 
The  people  pardon  every  thing  in  those  to  whom 
they  are  attached,  and  receive  home,  without  recoil- 
ing, the  sternest  truths  and  reproofs  addressed  to 
them  by  a  beloved  preacher. 

Let  your  preaching,  then,  be  the  effusion  of  a 
heart  full  of  love  and  truth.  Skilfully  disconnect 
vices  and  errors  from  individuals.  Place  the  latter 
apart,  and  then  assail  the  former  :  be  merciless,  close 
up  all  loop-holes,  allow  no  scope  for  the  resistance  of 
bad  passions  ;  tread  the  evil  under  foot.  But  raise 
up  the  vicious  and  erring,  stretch  out  a  hand  to 
them,  pour  confidence  and  good-will  into  their  souls, 
address  them  in  language  such  as  will  make  them 
hail  their  own  defeat  : — "  Brethren,  I  speak  to  you  as 
I  love  you,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart."  "  Permit 
us  to  declare  unto  you  the  whole  truth  ;  suffer  us  to 
be  apostles  ;  suffer  us  to  address  you  in  words  en- 
livened by  charity  ;  suffer  us  to  save  you.     .     .     ." 

Thus  have  we  endeavored  to  describe  the  nature, 
the  power,  and  the  triumphs  of  apostolical  preach- 
ing ;  which  should  be  the  same  now  as  it  was  in 
olden  time. 

But  apostolical  eloquence  is  no  longer  well  under- 


36  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

stood.  It  is  now  made  to  consist  of  I  liardly  know 
what  :  the  utterance  of  truths  without  any  order,  in 
a  happy-go-lucky  fashion,  extravagant  self-excitement, 
bawling,  and  thumping  on  the  pulpit.  There  is  a 
tendency  in  this  respect  to  follow  the  injunctions  of 
an  old  divine  of  the  sixteenth  century  to  a  young 
bachelor  of  arts  : — "  Percute  eathedram  fortiter ;  re- 
spice  CritcifixiLvi  torvis  ocidis  ;  nil  diu  ad  proposittnUj 
et  bene  prœdicabis" 

It  is  evident  that  any  thing  so  congenial  to  indo- 
lence cannot  be  apostolical  eloquence,  which  consists 
of  an  admixture  of  truth,  frankness,  and  charity.  To 
be  an  apostle  one  must  love,  suffer,  and  be  devoted. 

For,  what  is  an  apostle }  To  use  the  language  of 
one  who  was  worthy  to  define  the  meaning  of  the 
word,  and  who  exemplified  the  definition  in  his  own 
life  :  * — "  An  apostle  is  fervent  charity  personified. 
.  .  .  The  apostle  is  eager  for  work,  eager  to  en- 
dure. He  yearns  to  wean  his  brethren  from  error, 
to  enlighten,  console,  sustain,  and  to  make  them  par- 
takers of  the  happiness  of  Christianity.  The  apostle 
is  a  hero  ;  he  is  a  martyr  ;  he  is  a  divine,  a  father  ; 
he  is  indomitable,  yet  humble  ;  austere,  yet  pure  ; 
he  is  sympathizing,  tender.  .  .  .  The  apostle  is 
grand,  eloquent,  sublime,  holy.  He  entertains  large 
views,  and  is  assiduous  in  carrying  them  out  for  the 
regeneration  and  salvation  of  mankind." 

*  Père  Ravi^nan. 


To  address  Men  well,  they  imist  be  loved  much.    37 

We  must  return,  then,  to  this  broad  and  tender 
benevolence.  Let  our  congregations  feel  it,  read  it  ; 
see  it  in  our  persons,  in  our  features,  in  our  words, 
in  our  minutest  actions.  Let  them  understand  that 
the  priest  is,  before  all  others,  their  best,  their  most 
faithful  friend.  Nothing  must  disconcert  our  charity. 
Our  heart  must  be  enlarged,  and  soar  above  the  frail- 
ties, the  prejudices,  and  the  vices  of  humanity.  Did 
not  Saint  Paul  say  :  "  I  could  wish  that  myself  were 
accursed  from  Christ,"  for  the  sake  of  his  erring  breth- 
ren }  And  did  not  Moses  elect  to  be  blotted  out 
from  the  book  of  life  rather  than  see  his  cowardly, 
ungrateful,  fickle  countrymen  stricken  by  the  hand 
of  the  Almighty.^  The  weaker  men  are,  the  more 
need  have  they  to  be  loved. 

Such  love  does  good  to  all.  It  cheers  the  heart 
of  the  preacher.  It  also  creates  sympathy,  and  those 
electric  currents  which  go  from  the  speaker  to  the 
hearts  of  the  faithful,  and  from  the  hearts  of  the  faith- 
ful back  to  the  speaker.  It  reveals  what  should  be 
said,  and,  above  all,  supplies  the  appropriate  accent 
wherein  to  express  it.  Saint  Augustine  writes: 
"  Love  first,  and  then  you  may  do  what  you  choose." 
We  may  subjoin  :  "Love  first,  and  then  you  may  say 
what  you  please;"  for  affectionate  speech  fortifies 
the  mind,  removes  obstacles,  disposes  to  self-sacrifice, 
makes  the  unwilling  willing,  and  elevates  the  charac- 
ter as  well  as  the  mind. 


38  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

Charity  is  the  great  desideratum  of  the  present 
time.  It  is  constantly  being  remarked  that  the  age 
in  which  we  live  requires  this  and  that.  What  the 
age  really  wants  is  this  : — It  needs  to  be  loved.  .  . 
It  needs  to  be  drawn  out  of  that  egotism  which  frets 
and  consumes  it.  It  needs  a  little  esteem  and  kind- 
ly treatment  to  make  good  all  its  deficiencies.  How 
silly  we  are,  then,  to  go  so  far  in  search  of  the  desir- 
ed object,  overlooking  the  fact  that  the  kingdom  of 
God  is  within  ils — in  our  hearts. 

Be  it  ours,  therefore,  to  love  the  people.  .  .  . 
Is  it  not  to  that  end  that  we  have  no  family  ties  ? 
.  .  .  Let  us  prevent  their  hate,  which  is  so  harm- 
ful to  them.  Let  love  be  present  with  us  always, 
according  to  the  saying  of  Saint  Augustine  : — "  Let 
us  love  in  speaking,  and  speak  in  love.  Let  there 
be  love  in  our  remonstrances  .  .  .  love  also  in 
our  reproofs.  Let  the  mouth  speak,  but  let  the  heart 
love."  Yes,  let  us  learn  to  love,  to  endure,  to  be  de- 
voted. What  !  do  we  not  belong  to  the  same  family 
as  those  excellent  and  self-denying  men  who  leave 
country  and  home  to  seek  and  to  save  souls  beyond 
the  ocean }  Were  we  not  brought  up  at  the  same 
school }  They  love  infidels,  they  love  pagans  and 
savages  sufficiently  well  to  sacrifice  every  thing  for 
them.  .  .  .  Are  not  our  pagans  in  France  worth 
as  much  as  the  pagans  of  Oceania  t  Are  not  our 
French   little  ones  as  deserving  of  compassion   as 


To  address  Men  well,  they  must  be  loved  much.    3  9 

Chinese  children  ?  True,  their  parents  do  not  expose 
them  on  the  highways;  but  they  abandon  them  to 
shame,  to  vice,  to  the  education  of  the  streets.  .  .  . 
It  is  right  that  we  should  commiserate  the  heathen, 
that  devotion  should  be  manifested  on  their  behalf  ; 
but  let  us  have  compassion  on  our  own  children  also, 
on  our  brothers  in  France,  that  they  be  not  suffered 
to  perish  before  our  eyes.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  invoke 
pity  for  this  people  ;  pity  for  their  sufferings,  their 
miseries,  their  prejudices,  their  deplorable  subjection 
to  popular  opinion,  their  ignorance,  their  errors. 
Let  us,  at  least,  try  to  do  them  good,  to  save  them. 
Therein  lies  our  happiness  ;  we  shall  never  have  any 
other.  All  other  sources  are  closed  to  us  ;  there  is 
the  well-spring  of  the  most  delectable  joys.  Apart 
from  charity,  what  remains  t  Vanity,  unprofitable- 
ness, bitterness,  misery,  nothingness. 


CHAPTER    IL 

THE   PEOPLE. 

The  actual  State  of  the  People — Their  good  and  bad  Qualities — The 
People  in  large  Cities — The  People  in  small  Towns — The  People 
in  rural  Districts — How  to  benefit  these  Three  Classes  of  People 
— One  powerful  Means  is  to  act  upon  the  People  through  the  up- 
per Classes,  and  upon  the  latter  through  the  former. 

We  shall  now  assume  that  you  love  the  people.  But, 
besides  that,  in  order  to  address  them  pertinently, 
you  must  understand  them  well,  know  their  good 
qualities,  their  failings,  instincts,  passions,  prejudices, 
and  their  way  of  looking  at  things  ;  in  a  word,  you 
must  know  them  by  heart.  To  a  profound  acquaint- 
ance with  religion  must  be  joined  a  profound  know- 
ledge of  humanity  as  it  exists  at  the  present  day. 
But,  to  speak  frankly,  the  people  are  not  known  ;  not 
even  by  the  most  keen-sighted,  not  even  by  our  states- 
men. They  are  only  studied  superficially,  in  books, 
in  romances,  in  the  newspapers,  or  else  they  are  not 
studied  at  all.  Judgment  is  mostly  formed  from  ap- 
pearances. One  sees  a  man  mad  with  rage,  who  in- 
sults, blasphemes,  or  who  staggers  through  the  streets, 


The  People.  41 

and  he  says  :  "  There  ;  behold  the  people  !"  Another 
sees  one  who  risks  his  own  life  to  save  a  fellow-crea- 
ture, or  who  finds  and  restores  a  purse  or  a  pocket- 
book  to  its  owner,  and  he  exclaims  exultingly,  "  Be- 
hold the  people  !"  Both  are  mistaken,  for  both  sub- 
stitute an  exception  for  the  rule. 

In  order  to  understand  the  people  well,  we  must 
probe  beyond  the  surface,  and  take  them  as  they  are 
when  they  are  most  themselves.  They  must  be 
studied  in  the  spirit,  as  it  were,  and  not  on  the  out- 
side ;  for  they  often  appear  worse  than  they  actually 
are.  Still  less  should  we  arrest  our  researches,  as  is 
frequently  done,  at  a  point  where  they  clash  against 
ourselves.  On  the  other  hand,  I  feel  bound  to  state 
that  if  we  do  not  know  the  people,  they,  in  turn,  do 
not  know  the  classes  of  society  above  them  ;  and  it 
is  on  that  account  that  we  do  not  love  each  other  as 
we  ought. 

At  first  sight,  the  French  people — the  lower  orders 
— are  a  real  mystery  :  an  inconceivable  medley  of 
weakness  and  of  courage,  of  goodness  and  ill-will,  of 
delicacy  and  rudeness,  of  generosity  and  egotism,  of 
seriousness  and  of  frivolity.  It  may  be  said  that  they 
possess  two  natures  :  one  endowed  with  good  sense, 
which  is  generous,  feeling,  and  contrite  ;  the  other 
unreflecting,  which  raves  and  drinks,  curses  and 
swears.  On  one  side  they  are  frivolous,  vain,  weak, 
scornful,  sceptical,  credulous,  headstrong. 


42  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

In  their  frivolity  they  jeer  at  every  thing  ;  at  what 
is  frivolous  and  what  is  serious,  at  what  is  profane 
and  what  is  sacred.  Their  weakness  under  tempta- 
tion is  lamentable  :  they  have  no  restraint  over  them- 
selves. But,  above  all,  their  credulity  is  unbounded. 
This  is  their  weak,  their  bad  side  ;  the  source  of  one 
portion  of  our  evils. 

Alas  !  what  may  not  this  people  be  led  to  believe  t 
There  is  no  lie  so  great,  no  absurdity  so  gross,  the 
half  of  which  they  may  not  be  made  to  swallow  when 
their  passions  dictate  that  any  thing  may  be  gained 
thereby,  or  they  conceive  that  their  interests  are  as- 
sailed. At  certain  seasons  of  blind  infatuation  they 
may  be  made  to  believe  any  thing  ;  even  that  which 
is  incredible,  even  what  is  impossible.  Unfortunately 
this  is  to  some  extent  the  case  among  the  higher 
classes.  The  people  surrender  themselves  to  the 
first  comer  who  has  a  glib  tongue  and  can  he  adroitly. 

Their  credulity,  as  already  stated,  knows  no  bounds  ; 
especially  as  respects  the  rich  and  the  clergy,  whom 
they  regard  as  the  cause  of  all  the  ills  which  befall 
them.  Accidents  wholly  independent  of  human  voli- 
tion are  placed  to  their  account.  Is  there  a  dearth  } 
They  create  the  scarcity  of  corn.  Is  there  stagnation 
in  trade  t  They  restrain  the  capitalists.  Undoubt- 
edly they  had  some  hand  in  the  cholera  ;  and  it  is  not 
quite  certain  but  that  there  exists  some  damnable 
connivance  between  them  and  the  caterpillars  and 


The  People.  43 

weevils.  .  .  .  Poor  people  !  yet  how  they  are  de- 
ceived !  Thereupon  their  good  sense  disappears, 
their  heads  reel,  reflection  abandons  them,  and  then 
they  rise  up  in  anger  :  strike,  pillage,  kill.  .  .  . 
They  become  terrible. 

But  I  hasten  to  say  that  if  there  is  evil  in  the 
French  people,  there  is  also  good  :  much  good.  They 
are  witty,  frank,  logical,  generous,  amiable,  and  above 
all,  they  have  hearts.  This  is  undeniable  ;  and  we 
should  never  despair  of  a  man  who  has  a  heart,  for 
there  is  always  something  in  him  to  fall  back  upon. 
When  all  else  is  lost  to  this  people,  their  heart  sur- 
vives, for  it  is  the  last  thing  which  dies  within  them. 
It  has  been  said  that  frivolity  is  the  basis  of  the 
French  character  ;  but  that  judgment  is  incorrect. 
More  truly  it  should  be  said  that  the  French  charac- 
ter is  frivolous  outwardly,  but  at  the  bottom  it  is  gen- 
erous, combined  with  exquisite  good  sense. 

Very  few  are  aware  how  much  generosity  and 
sympathy  toward  all  suffering  are  hid  under  the  jerkin 
and  smock-frock.  The  people  possess  an  inexhaust- 
ible store  of  sentiment,  of  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice 
and  devotedness.  Why,  then,  are  they  not  better 
understood  }  The  mischievous,  indeed,  know  them 
too  well  ;  for  when  they  would  mislead  or  stir  them 
up,  they  appeal  to  their  sense  of  justice,  to  their  love 
of  humanity.  They  point  out  to  them  grievances 
which  should  be  redressed,  oppressions  to  be  avenged. 


44  Tlie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

Then  are  their  passions  Ht  up,  and  they  are  carried 
away  .  .  .  we  need  not  tell  the  rest.  The  motive 
on  their  part  was  almost  always  praiseworthy  at  the 
outset,  in  some  measure  at  least  ;  but  once  led  be- 
yond themselves  they  hurried  headlong  into  extremes. 

The  heart,  then,  is  the  better  side  of  the  French 
people  ;  their  honorable  and  glorious  side  ;  their 
genius.  Others  may  claim  the  genius  of  extensive 
speculations  in  science  and  industry  ;  to  them  be- 
longs the  genius  of  heart,  of  love,  of  sympathy,  of 
charity.  Endowed  with  so  goodly  a  portion,  what 
have  they  to  complain  of;  for  is  not  dominion  over 
mankind  achieved  thereby }  Hence,  when  Provi- 
dence designs  to  spread  an  idea  throughout  the  world, 
it  implants  it  in  a  Frenchman's  breast.  There  it  is 
quickly  elaborated  ;  and  then  that  heart  so  magnani- 
mous and  communicative,  so  fascinating  and  attractive, 
gives  it  currency  with  electric  speed. 

If  noble  aspirations  spring  from  the  heart,  they  no- 
where find  a  more  fertile  soil  ;  and,  strange  to  say, 
this  excellent  gift  is  found  in  all  classes,  and  under 
all  conditions.  A  man  may  be  worse  than  a  non- 
entity in  a  moral  point  of  view,  but  he  has  a  heart 
still.     Would  you  do  him  good  }  aim  at  that. 

But  you  will  say  :  "  Look  at  those  coarse  fellows, 
those  besotted  clowns  sunk  in  materialism,  those  men 
stained  with  crime  and  degraded  by  debauchery, 
where  is  their  heart }     They  have  none."     I  say  they 


The  People.  45 

have  a  heart  still  :  go  direct  to  the  soul,  pierce  through 
that  rough  and  forbidding  crust  of  vices  and  evil  pas- 
sions, and  you  will  find  a  treasure. 

Proof  in  point  is  to  be  met  with  everywhere  ;  even 
in  the  theatres,  where  its  manifestation  has  been 
noticed  by  observant  spectators.  The  galleries  are 
generally  occupied  by  persons  of  all  conditions  ;  me- 
chanics, profligates,  vagabonds,  loose  women,  and 
even  men,  who,  to  use  their  own  indulgent  expres- 
sion, have  had  a  weakness  :  that  is,  have  spent  some 
years  in  prison,  or  at  the  treadmill.  It  is  gratifying 
to  witness  the  conduct  of  that  mass  during  the  per- 
formance of  some  touching  scene  or  generous  action. 
They  are  often  moved  even  to  tears — they  applaud 
and  stamp  with  enthusiasm.  On  the  contrary,  when 
niean  or  heinous  actions  are  represented,  they  can- 
not hoot  or  execrate  enough  :  they  shake  the  fist  at 
the  scoundrel  or  traitor,  hurl  abuse  at  him,  and  not 
unfrequently  more  substantial  missiles. 

It  will  be  said  that  all  this  feeling  is  transitory. 
So  it  may  be  ;  still  it  shows  that  there  remain  in 
such  breasts,  chords  which  may  be  made  to  vibrate, 
hearts  not  yet  dead,  good  sentiments  which  are  capa- 
ble of  cultivation. 

Such  are  the  French  people  taken  in  the  mass  ; 
such  their  merits  and  defects.  The  head  is  not  their 
better  part,  and  they  might  almost  be  described  as 
having  a  good  heart  but  a  bad  head.     In  order  to  lead 


46  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

them,  they  must  be  seized  where  they  present  the 
best  hold.  To  do  this  effectually  requires  sound 
sense  and  a  kindly  heart,  moderate  reasoning,  and 
very  little  metaphysics.  An  opposite  course,  how- 
ever, is  too  frequently  pursued.  Crotchets,  fancies, 
theories,  vapid  ideas — such  is  the  stuff  wherewith 
attempts  have  been  made  to  influence  them.  Is  it 
surprising  that  they  have  not  always  yielded  to  such 
guidance } 

On  points  of  wit,  argument,  and  right,  the  French- 
man is  acute,  punctilious,  headstrong.  On  points  of 
generosity  and  devotedness  he  is  tractable,  liberal, 
admirable.  Demand  any  thing  from  him  as  a  right, 
and  he  will  refuse  it.  Ask  the  same  thing  of  him, 
appealing  to  his  heart,  and  he  will  often  grant  it  with 
the  best  possible  grace.  But,  above  all,  if  you  wish 
to  restore  him  to  equanimity  and  a  right  mind,  get 
him  to  perform  an  act  of  charity. 

To  prove  that  the  heart  rarely  disappears,  and  that 
it  always  retains  a  hold  on  the  mind,  I  must  be  per- 
mitted to  cite  an  example  combining  the  good  and 
the  bad  qualities  which  are  to  be  met  with  in  the 
lower  grades  of  society.  I  shall  frequently  refer  to 
facts  ;  for  in  morals,  as  in  many  other  matters,  they 
bring  us  sooner  to  the  point  aimed  at. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  most  wretched  quarters  of 
Paris  that  a  priest  went  to  visit  a  rag-woman  who 
was  dangerously  ill.     She  was  lying  on  straw  so  damp 


The  People.  ^  47 

that  it  was  fit  only  for  the  dung-hill.  The  visitor  had 
reached  the  landing-place,  and  was  reflecting  how  he 
might  best  minister  to  the  poor  woman's  wants,  when 
he  heard  the  cry  of  another  female  from  the  end  of  a 
dark  corridor,  exclaiming  :  "  Help  !  murder  !" 

He  ran  toward  the  spot,  and  pushing  open  a  door 
saw  two  young  children  crying.  Extended  on  the 
floor  lay  the  unfortunate  woman,  while  a  tall  man 
with  a  sinister  countenance,  and  clad  only  in  a  pair 
of  pantaloons  and  a  ragged  shirt,  stood  over  her,  kick- 
ing her.  Her  face  was  already  black  and  blue  from 
his  violence. 

The  priest  sprang  towards  the  man  and  said  : 
"  Wretch  !  what  are  you  about  t  Will  you  not  de- 
sist r  He  did  desist,  but  it  was  to  attack  the  speak- 
er. He  seized  him  suddenly  by  the  breast,  thrust 
two  fingers  under  his  cassock,  and  then,  without 
uttering  a  word,  lifted  him  as  if  he  had  been  an  in- 
fant, and  carried  him  to  an  open  window.  There 
he  angrily  told  him  that  he  would  not  have  priests 
intermeddling  with  his  affairs,  and  disturbing  the 
peace  of  his  hoiiseJiold,  and  that  he  intended  to  pitch 
him  out  of  the  window  forthwith.  In  fact,  he  was 
preparing  to  put  the  threat  into  execution  ;  but,  as  if 
wishing  to  gloat  over  his  victim,  he  continued  to 
glare  at  him  with  the  eyes  of  a  tiger,  holding  him  all 
the  whj^e  as  with  an  arm  of  steel. 

The  priest  was  alarmed,  but  God  enabled  him  not 


48  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

to  betray  it.  He  regarded  his  antagonist  calmly,  and 
said  almost  with  a  smile  :  "  Gently,  my  friend  ;  you 
are  much  too  hasty.  Do  you  really  mean  to  throw 
me  out  of  the  window  1  Is  that  the  most  pressing 
business  on  hand .''  You  who  are  always  talking 
about  fraternity  and  charity  ;  do  you  know  what  was 
taking  place  while  you  were  beating  your  wife  .'* 
Another  woman  was  dying  on  a  dung-heap  in  your 
house.  I  am  sure  you  would  be  horrified  at  such  a 
thing.  Now,  let  us  both  see  what  we  can  do  on  her 
behalf  ;  for  you  are  by  no  means  such  a  bad  fellow  as 
you  wish  to  appear.  I  will  pay  for  some  clean  straw, 
if  you  will  go  and  fetch  it."  Terror,  combined  with 
the  desire  of  winning  over  his  assailant,  made  the 
priest  eloquent,  and  he  had  hardly  ended  his  appeal 
before  the  lion  was  tamed.  The  man's  countenance 
rapidly  changed,  and  he  relaxed  his  hold  at  once  ; 
then  taking  off  his  shabby  cap  and  placing  it  under 
his  arm,  he  assumed  a  respectful  attitude,  like  that  of 
a  soldier  in  presence  of  a  superior  officer,  and  re- 
plied : — "  If  you  talk  in  that  style,  sir,  the  case  is 
different.  I  have  always  been  humane,  and  will 
readily  help  you  to  assist  the  poor  woman.  I  will,  in 
fact,  do  any  thing  you  please  ;  for  it  won't  do  to  let  a 
fellow-creature  die  in  that  plight."  Thereupon  the 
priest  gave  him  the  money,  and  he  went  out  to  pur- 
chase two  bundles  of  clean  straw. 

In  the  mean  time  the  women  of  the  neighborhood, 


The  People.  49 

attracted  by  the  altercation,  had  rushed  to  the  spot, 
and  on  seeing  the  priest  expostulated  with  him  in 
these  terms  : — "  What  are  you  about  ?  Do  you  know 
where  you  are  ?  You  are  in  the  clutches  of  the  worst 
man  in  the  quarter.  He  is  so  outrageous  that  even 
cut-throats  are  afraid  of  him,  and  he  has  often  said 
that  nothing  would  give  him  more  pleasure  than  to 
break  a  man's  neck,  especially  if  that  man  were  a 
priest."  These  remonstrances  were  by  no  means 
encouraging  ;  but  those  who  urged  them  little  knew 
the  power  of  charity. 

The  sturdy  fellow  soon  returned  with  the  bundles 
on  his  shoulder.  He  was  calm,  and  his  countenance 
had  become  almost  honest.  On  entering  the  room 
where  the  poor  woman  lay,  he  took  half  a  bundle  of 
straw  and  spread  it  on  the  floor.  The  most  touching 
part  of  the  scene  followed.  He  lifted  the  sufferer  in 
his  arms  with  the  tenderness  of  a  mother,  placed  her 
on  the  clean  straw,  then  made  her  bed,  and  finally 
laid  her  upon  it,  just  as  a  mother  would  her  child.  A 
female  wished  to  help  him,  but  he  pushed  her  aside, 
remarking  that  he  was  well  able  to  do  a  humane  act 
unassisted. 

The  man  was  in  tears,  and  the  priest  perceiving 
that  he  wished  to  address  him,  retired  toward  the 
window.  But  his  new  acquaintance  could  not  utter 
a  word  ;  emotion  choked  him.  The  priest  gave  him 
his  hand,  and  the  stalwart  workman  squeezed  it  as  in 


50  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

a  \  ice,  in  token  of  his  affection.  "  Well  done,  my 
friend,"  said  the  priest,  "  well  done  ;  I  quite  under- 
stand you.  I  knew  full  well  that  you  were  not  as  bad 
as  you  wanted  to  make  me  believe.  I  knew  you 
were  capable  of  doing  a  good  action."  "  You  have 
done  it  all,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  four  men  could  not 
master  me,  and  yet  you  have  overcome  me  with  as 
many  words.      Yoîl  must  be  a  tnte pastor!' 

The  priest  hastened  to  turn  this  favorable  oppor- 
tunity to  profit,  by  pleading  the  cause  of  the  wife, 
and  rejoined  : — "  But,  my  friend,  you  have  done 
something  which  is  not  becoming.  You  have  ill- 
used  your  wife  ;  and  a  man  does  not  marry  a  woman 
to  beat  her.  I  have  no  doubt  she  has  her  failings, 
and  you  also  have  yours.  You  should  bear  with  one 
another.  Come,  promise  me  that  you  will  never 
strike  her  again."  At  these  words,  his  face  assumed 
somewhat  of  its  former  sullenness,  and  dropping  the 
priest's  hand  he  said  frankly  : — "  I  am  very  sorry  that 
I  cannot  do  as  you  wish.  I  will  not  promise  be- 
cause I  should  not  keep  my  word."  .  .  .  The 
priest  returned  to  the  charge,  and  among  other  re- 
marks which  made  some  impression  on  the  man,  he 
was  quite  brought  to  bay  by  the  following  : — "  So 
you  won't  promise  not  to  beat  your  wife  }  That  is 
simply  because  you  don't  reflect.  Surely,  you  who 
have  just  done  an  act  of  kindness  to  a  strange 
woman,  cannot,  with  any  decency,  continue  to  beat 


The  People.  5t 

your  own  wife."  After  much  hesitation,  he  pledged 
his  word,  backing  it  with  a  tremendous  oath.  Since 
then,  he  has  never  been  intoxicated,  neither  has  he 
once  struck  his  wife.  You  should  have  seen  with 
what  gratitude  the  woman  welcomed  her  preserver 
on  his  next  visit.  "What  a  blessing  my  acquaint- 
ance with  you  has  proved,"  said  she.  "  Since  your 
last  visit  you  have  saved  me  from  two  floorers.  My 
husband  does  not  drink  now,  but  he  still  goes  into 
violent  passions.  He  raises  his  fist,  and  I  fear  he 
is  about  to  strike  me  ;  but  he  forbears.  He  calms 
down  at  once,  and  says  :  '  Tis  well  for  you  that  that 
abbé  came,  otherwise  I  would  have  floored  you  again." 

Not  long  after,  he  was  reclaimed  to  a  Christian 
life  ;  he  confessed  and  communicated,  and  it  is  now 
rare  to  find  a  man  of  more  exalted  sentiments.  He 
refused  assistance  from  every  one,  saying  that  he 
was  able  to  earn  his  own  livelihood,  and  to  provide 
for  his  family.  To  do  this,  he  worked  all  day  and 
part  of  the  night  also.  Peace  and  comfort  were  re- 
stored to  his  home,  which  his  wife  now  likens  to  a 
paradise. 

To  give  an  instance  of  his  noble  disposition,  I 
may  mention  that  toward  the  end  of  last  December 
he  called  on  the  priest,  to  whom  he  had  become 
greatly  attached,  and  said  to  him  with  his  character- 
istic frankness  : — "  I  am  very  sad  to-day.  Monsieur 
l'Abbé." 


52  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

"  Why,  my  friend  ?" 

"  Because  I  am  poor.  In  the  course  of  my  lifetime 
I  have  suffered  misery  enough.  I  have  cursed  the 
rich,  and  that  Providence  which  gave  them  their 
wealth.  Nevertheless,  I  don't  believe  I  ever  felt  the 
wretchedness  of  being  poor  as  much  as  I  do  to-day  ; 
although  it  is  for  a  different  reason." 

"  What  is  it,  then,  my  good  friend  T 

"  Well,  it  is  this.  Here  we  are  close  upon  the  be- 
ginning of  a  new  year,  and  I  wished  to  make  you  a 
small  present — for  you  have  been  very  kind  to  me — 
and  I  have  no  money.  However,  be  assured  of  this, 
at  least,  that  you  have  in  me  a  devoted  friend,  and 
that  I  am  always  at  your  service.  Send  me  wher- 
ever you  please  ;  I  would  walk  barefoot  and  beat 
a  steam-engine  to  serve  you."  Then,  taking  the 
priest's  hand,  he  added  with  unspeakable  kindness 
and  energy  : — "  Monsieur  l'Abbé,  should  there  ever 
be  another  revolution,  and  any  assault  be  made  on 
the  clergy,  come  and  take  refuge  with  me  ;  come 
and  hide  in  our  quarter,  and  I  vow  that  many  he-ads 
shall  be  broken  before  a  hair  of  yours  is  touched." 

Such  are  the  people,  taken  as  they  are  with  the 
good  and  the  bad  which  is  in  them.  I  have  again 
selected  my  illustrations  from  among  the  least  favor- 
able specimens,  and  I  may  further  add  that  it  rarely 
happens  that  a  priest  meets  even  with  abuse  from  the 
most  depraved      The  instance  above  adduced  is  ex- 


The  People.  53 

ceptional,  and  arose  out  of  the  anger  of  the  mo- 
ment. 

Such,  then,  are  the  people  generally  ;  but  their 
characteristics  are  modified  by  circumstances  of  lo- 
cality, intercourse,  and  education.  There  are  the 
people  of  the  large  cities,  those  of  small  towns,  and 
the  people  in  rural  districts.  There  are  also  the  peo- 
ple who  work,  and  those  who  are  always  looking  for 
work  and  never  find  it  ;  with  whom  the  true  people 
are  often  confounded. 

The  People  in  large  Cities. 

The  people  in  large  cities  possess,  in  a  high  de- 
gree, all  the  merits  and  defects  which  we  are  about 
to  notice. 

They  are  fickle,  vain,  braggart,  improvident,  mad 
after  pleasures,  and  not  very  moral. 

The  ease  with  which  they  may  be  duped  is  as- 
tounding. They  are  readily  excited,  they  clamor, 
are  carried  away,  strike  for  nothing  whatever,  and 
then  they  reflect.  They  live  from  hand  to  mouth. 
When  work  is  plentifid,  they  squander  ;  when  it  is 
scarce,  they  fast  and  suffer. 

They  love  money  for  the  pleasures  which  it  pro- 
cures ;  and  in  their  estimation  a  debauch  is  one  of 
the  greatest  enjoyments  of  life. 

This  latter  tendency  they  have  borrowed  from  the 
present  age  ;  which  is  somewhat  sensual,  not  to  say 


54  T^^^^  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

gluttonous — that  term  would  not  be  parliamentary — • 
as  it  would  have  been  called  in  former  times.  Now- 
adays a  good  dinner  is  not  a  matter  of  indifference  to 
others  besides  men  of  high  standing.  A  person  of 
exalted  rank  was  once  told  that  his  cook  had  the 
talent  of  adding  considerably  to  his  own  wages.  "  I 
know  it,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  but  I  hold  that  we  cannot 
pay  a  man  too  handsomely  for  making  us  happy  twice 
a  day."  In  fact,  in  these  times,  one  who  can  thus 
serve  you  out  two  rations  of  happiness  per  dicin  is 
regarded  as  a  treasure. 

Despite  the  vices,  however,  which  exist  in  large 
cities,  there  are  many  virtues  also  to  be  found  among 
the  resident  people.  They  are  sincere,  generous,  dis- 
interested, amiable,  and  withal  extremely  witty.  In 
the  midst  of  their  hardships,  or  when  exposed  to 
danger,  they  will  often  utter  sparkling  sallies,  or 
laugh  good-naturedly  at  their  miseries.  They  are 
not  rich  ;  but  what  matters  that  1  They  are  ever 
ready  to  help  those  who  are  poorer  than  themselves. 
In  case  of  an  accident,  they  will  run,  work,  expose 
themselves  to  save  others  at  the  risk  of  their  own 
lives.  They  are  ready  to  sacrifice  themselves  for 
whatever  they  deem  just  and  right.  Unfortunately, 
in  their  opinion,  the  authorities  are  always  in  the 
wrong,  and  they  are  never  backward  to  take  part 
against  the  law. 

The  more  I  study  the  people,  the  more  incompre- 


The  People.  55 

hensible  they  appear  to  me.  They  are  at  once  scepti- 
cal and  religious.  Watch  them  in  a  public-house  : 
there  they  curse  and  swear,  and  indulge  freely  in 
ribald  talk  ;  but  if  a  funeral  happens  to  pass  by, 
they  immediately  doff  their  caps,  and  make  the  sign 
of  the  cross.  To-day  they  will  thrash  one  of  their 
comrades  unmercifully  ;  the  day  after  they  will  adopt 
an  orphan.  No  class  ever  had  so  much  need  of  guid- 
"ance  ;  of  benevolent  sympathizing  guidance.  They 
drift  with  the  wind  under  the  influence  of  good  or 
evil  counsels.  They  may  become  sublime  or  atro- 
cious, angels  of  heaven  or  demons. 

The  people  themselves  feel  their  own  weakness 
and  fickleness,  and  are  occasionally  dismayed  at  it. 
Some  time  back,  one  of  them,  while  looking  at  the 
stains  of  blood  which  had  been  shed  in  a  church  in 
the  month  of  September,  1792,  was  seized  with  a  sud- 
den horror,  and,  laying  hold  of  the  arm  of  the  priest 
who  accompanied  him,  exclaimed  with  a  shudder  : — 
"  I  fear  those  times  may  return  ;  for,  you  see,  we  are 
unfortunate.  We  are  ill-advised,  and  are  as  ready  to 
kill  with  one  hand  as  we  are  to  embrace  with  the 
other." 

They  require,  then,  to  be  under  constant  guidance. 

They  always  need  to  have  some  one  near  who  will 
sustain  and  keep  them  in  the  right  way  by  appealing 
to  the  better  dictates  of  their  hearts. 

In  one  respect,  such  guidance  is  easier  here  than 


56  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

elsewhere.  You  tread  on  ground  which  is  perfectly 
well-known.  These  people  can  hide  nothing.  As  the 
saying  is,  when  an  idea  tickles  them,  they  must 
scratch  it  until  it  finds  utterance.  Their  firankness 
is  occasionally  foul-mouthed,  and  they  do  not  hesitate 
to  blurt  it  out  to  your  face.  Nevertheless,  such  a 
style  rather  pleases  me  than  otherwise.  You  know, 
at  least,  with  whom  you  have  to  deal  ;  and  when  such 
an  one  says  that  he  is  attached  to  you,  he  is  sincere. 
God  grant  that  the  feeling  in  every  case  may  be 
abiding  ! 

They  are  not  tenacious  either  of  their  errors,  their 
prejudices,  or  their  passions.  It  is  true  that  they  are 
disposed  to  assume  airs,  to  repine,  and  to  threaten. 
They  declare  that  they  will  do  this  and  that  ;  but  it 
is  by  no  means  difficult  to  prevent  them  from  doing 
it  at  all.  Ridicule  their  prejudices  and  their  foibles 
fairly,  and  with  sound  sense,  and  they  will  surrender 
them,  and  you  will  overcome  them  all.  Moreover, 
they  will  not  be  the  last  to  laugh  at  their  own  folly. 

Some  weeks  after  the  revolution  of  February,  when 
men's  brains  were  all  in  a  whirl,  and  every  one  fancied 
himself  called  upon  to  present  us  with  a  better  world 
than  that  which  Providence  has  given  us.  Monseign- 
eur D'Amata,  Bishop  of  Oceania,  happened  to  be  in 
Paris.  One  day  he  passed  by  a  club  in  full  session. 
The  attendance  was  numerous,  and  all  ears  were  bent 
and  all  eyes  fixed  on  an  orator  who  was  dilating  on 


The  People.  57 

the  benefits  of  communism.  He  wound  up  with  the 
usual  phrases  :  No  more  poor  nor  rich  ;  no  more 
great  nor  small  ;  no  more  palaces  nor  hovels  ;  but  per- 
fect equality  and  happiness  for  all.  After  which 
peroration  there  was  a  tremendous  outburst  of  ap- 
plause. 

The  bishop  then  asked  leave  to  speak,  which  being 
granted,  he  mounted  on  a  table  which  served  for  a 
rostrum,  and  spoke  to  the  following  effect  : — "  Citi- 
zens, you  have  just  been  hearing  about  communism, 
and  a  great  deal  of  good  has  been  attributed  to  it.  I 
am  entitled  as  much  as  any  man  to  have  my  say  on 
the  subject.  For  a  long  time  past  I  have  resided  in 
a  country  where  communism  is  carried  out  into  prac- 
tice thoroughly."  (Increased  attention.)  "  There  every 
thing  is  common  :  the  land,  the  forests,  rivers,  fish, 
game,  and  women.  But  let  me  tell  you  how  matters 
go  on  there.  Nobody  works  ;  the  fields  are  untilled  ; 
and  the  inhabitants  live  on  fish  and  game.  When 
these  fail,  as  the  people  must  eat,  they  hunt  one 
another.  The  stronger  catches  the  weaker,  roasts 
him  on  a  spit,  and  then  eats  him.  Reflect,  therefore, 
before  establishing  communism,  whether  such  a  state 
of  existence  would  suit  you.  Should  you  persist,  I 
would  advise  you  to  lay  in  a  good  supply  of  spits, 
and  to  sharpen  them  well,  for  they  will  be  the  most 
valuable  stock  under  the  reign  of  communism." 
Whereat  there  followed  an  outcry  of  "  Down  with 
communism  !     Away  with  communism  !" 


58  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

The  People  in  small  Towns. 

In  small  towns,  the  scene  changes  and  assumes 
smaller  proportions.  Little  things  play  the  part  of 
great  things.  A  small  town  is  the  home,  the  real 
classical  soil  of  petty  ideas,  petty  vanities,  petty  tri- 
umphs, and  gross  backbiting.  They  all  know,  salute, 
and  criticise  each  other.  None  is  more  slanderous 
than  the  male  resident  in  a  small  town,  except  it  be 
his  wife.  The  chief  authority  of  the  place  is  neither 
the  mayor,  nor  the  sub-prefect,  nor  even  the  prefect 
himself  It  is  public  opinion,  flanked  by  its  insepa- 
rable companion,  routine. 

The  local  virtue  is  not  independence  of  character, 
but  timidity.  Every  one  fears  his  friends  as  well  as 
his  enemies,  neighbors  as  well  as  strangers  ;  he  fears 
for  his  own  amonr  propre,  and  he  fears  to  give  others 
cause  for  talking  about  him. 

All  this  has  exercised  a  pernicious  influence  over 
the  people  in  such  localities.  They  are  extremely 
timid,  niggardly,  insincere,  rather  hypocritical,  and 
inordinately  obsequious.  They  may  be  well-disposed 
to  discharge  their  religious  duties  ;  but  should  there 
happen  to  be  a  free-thinker  among  them,  one  who 
takes  the  lead  in  the  finance  or  trade  of  the  place, 
who  might  traduce  or  turn  such  conduct  into  ridicule, 
or  bespatter  it  with  some  of  the  blasphemies  picked 
up  from  among  the  off-scourings  of  the  eighteenth 


The  People.  59 

century,  they  do  not  dare  to  perform  them  ;  they  trem- 
ble at  the  idea,  so  abject  is  their  state  of  dependence  : 
they  have  not  even  the  courage  to  brave  sarcasm. 
This  servile  deference,  which  has  been  ignominiously 
expelled  from  our  great  cities,  has  taken  refuge  in 
our  small  towns  and  country  districts,  where  it  exer- 
cises a  tyrannical  sway. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  people  in  small  towns  are 
more  moral,  more  provident,  less  turbulent,  and  more 
faithful  to  family  obligations  than  those  in  large  cities. 
They,  above  all  others,  should  not  be  judged  by  ap- 
pearances :  by  that  cold  and  lifeless  indifference  which 
characterizes  them.  Hence  it  is  that  they  are  so 
little  understood,  even  by  those  who  come  into  closest 
contact  with  them. 

In  order  to  win  them,  you  must  attack  them  boldly. 
Promote  concurrence  toward  some  benevolent  object, 
by  grouping  your  men  together,  so  that  they  may 
not  feel  isolated.  Then  they  will  take  courage,  and 
will  get  to  understand  that  it  is  no  disgrace  to  prac- 
tise religious  duties  ;  or,  at  least,  that  in  attending  to 
them,  they  are  in  fair  and  goodly  company. 

To  that  end,  organize  a  society  of  St.  Vincent  de 
Paul  ;  or,  should  one  exist  already,  develop  it  still 
further.  It  is  no  longer  allowable  that  a  small  town, 
or  even  a  village,  should  be  without  a  branch  of  that 
institution.  The  attempt  has  succeeded  in  many 
hamlets  ;  and,  surely,  there  is  no  inhabited  locality  so 


6o  The  Clergy  and  the  l^ulpit. 

unfortunate  as  not  to  possess  at  least  three  zealous 
Christians.  If  so,  they  must  be  created  forthwith  ; 
otherwise,  what  are  we  good  for  ?  Have  also  a  So- 
ciety of  Saint  Francis  Xavier,  and  an  Apprentices' 
Association.  Occupy  yourself  chiefly  with  the  men  ; 
leave  the  faithful  flock  in  order  to  seek  after  the  lost 
sheep  ;  and,  above  all,  let  it  not  be  said  of  you  as  it  is 
said  of  certain  small  towns,  that  religion  tJi'ere  is  en- 
grossed with  the  distaff. 

The  People  in  Rnral  Districts. 

The  people  in  the  country  are  the  reverse  of  the 
people  in  large  cities.  There,  every  thing  moves 
slowly.  Results  are  tardily  obtained,  but  they  are 
more  durable. 

The  peasant  is  bound  to  routine  ;  he  is  diffident, 
dissembling,  susceptible,  cunning,  and  somewhat 
avaricious. 

Above  all  others,  usage  and  custom  are  a  law  to 
him.  He  never  risks  any  thing  novel,  or  trusts  to 
new  faces,  but  with  reserve.  He  possesses  few 
ideas  ;  but  those  he  has  he  adheres  to  as  tenaciously 
as  he  does  to  his  little  bit  of  land. 

He  seldom  comes  straight  to  the  point  ;  he  is  in- 
capable of  saying  yes  or  no  frankly,  and  he  must  be 
very  acute  who  can  penetrate  his  thoughts.  He  will 
listen  to  you,  and  appear  to  approve  all  you  say  ;  but, 
in  fact,  he  disagrees  with  you.     He  has,  moreover. 


The  People,  6 1 

his  grain  of  vanity  ;  why  should  he  not  ?  Is  he  not 
a  child  of  Adam,  like  the  rest  of  mankind  ?  Has  he 
not,  hke  them,  preserved  the  tradition  of  his  noble 
origin  ? 

Hence  he  is  prouder  of  being  mayor  of  his  eo7;t- 
mime,  or  an  officer  in  the  National  Guard,  than 
either  a  prefect  or  a  marshal  of  France  is  of  his  dig- 
nity. And  as  regards  deference,  no  man  is  more  ex- 
acting than  a  peasant  who  has  risen  to  the  rank  of 
mayor,  or  become  an  enriched  shopkeeper. 

Lastly,  the  peasant  does  not  possess  much  acquir- 
ed knowledge  ;  but  he  makes  up  for  the  deficiency 
by  consummate  shrewdness.  He  must  be  a  sharp 
person  indeed,  who  can  overreach  him  where  money 
is  concerned  ;  unless  he  can  manage  to  play  upon 
his  credulity  or  his  dread  of  spells  and  witchcraft. 

Nothing  can  be  more  perverse,  more  astute,  or 
more  cunning  than  an  old  peasant  of  Normandy  or 
Lorraine.  He  will  expend  more  craft  in  disposing 
of  an  unsound  horse  than  our  diplomats  would  in 
formulating  one  of  those  protocols  destined  to  pre- 
serve the  balance  of  power  in  Europe.  He  will 
haggle  for  half-an-hour  to  gain  sixpence  on  a  sheep 
which  he  wants  to  buy  or  to  sell.  In  other  respects, 
the  peasant  is  generally  good-natured,  laborious,  so- 
ber, full  of  good  sense,  and  religious  as  well  as  mo- 
ral, up  to  a  certain  point  ;  were  it  not  for  the  public- 
house.  His  life  is  capable  of  easy  adaptation  to  the 
precepts  of  the  Gospel. 


02  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

In  order  to  lead  him,  you  must  first  secure  his 
confidence,  take  hold  of  him  by  his  better  side,  or 
even  by  his  weak  side — which  is,  his  vanity.  Ought 
we  not  to  become  little  with  the  little,  that  we  may 
save  all  ? 

But  the  best  way  of  gaining  that  confidence  is  to 
do  him  a  good  turn.  The  peasant,  undoubtedly,  re- 
lishes kind  words,  but  he  likes  kindly  actions  still 
better  ;  and  therein  I  agree  with  him. 

In  other  respects,  he  is  by  no  means  exacting. 
A  little  forethought  on  his  behalf,  a  little  politeness, 
a  salutation,  a  manifestation  of  interest,  or  a  trifling 
present  to  his  child,  will  be  enough  to  open  his  heart, 
and  to  make  him  well-disposed. 

When  he  is  bent  on  doing  a  thing,  never  oppose 
him  directly,  otherwise  he  will  become  restive  and 
obstinate  ;  and  if  you  attempt  to  lead  him  to  the 
right,  he  will  show  a  malicious  pleasure  in  going  to 
the  left.  Beware  still  more  of  pushing  him  to  ex- 
tremes ;  for  he  may  become  obstreperous,  spiteful, 
pitiless,  and  perchance  atrocious.  Take  the  peasant 
by  the  heart  ;  for,  after  all,  it  is  the  most  healthy  part 
of  the  community  generally. 

On  the  Way  of  doing  some  dittle  Good  to  these  Three 
Classes  of  the  People. 

Such  are  the  people,  with  whom  we  have  to  deal, 
and  who  need  to  be  restored  to  vital  Christianity  ; 


The  People.  63 

seeing  that  they  are,  unfortunately,  sadly  deficient  in 
practical  religion,  and  their  manner  of  life  is  often 
far  removed  from  evangelical  morality.  Still,  let  us 
beware  of  judging  that  the  religious  sentiment  is  ex- 
tinct among  them.  The  people  in  France  are  natu- 
rally Christian.  There  is  more  religion  in  the  httle 
finger  of  the  people  than  in  the  superb  bodies  of  our 
deini-savants. 

The  people,  I  say,  are  still  capable  of  comprehend- 
ing and  of  appreciating  religion  ;  and  whenever 
their  hearts  are  brought  into  contact  with  the  Gos- 
pel, they  allow  themselves  to  be  penetrated,  ruled, 
elevated  by  its  influence.  Look  at  them  in  the 
presence  of  a  preacher  who  speaks  to  the  souls  of 
his  hearers.  Their  attention  is  suddenly  riveted, 
their  countenances  become  animated,  their  eyes  glis- 
ten. They  listen  with  an  attention  and  good-will, 
which  one  often  wishes  to  see  in  the  most  pious  au- 
diences. They  welcome  without  a  frown  the  seve- 
rest truths,  and  even  applaud  those  passages  which 
bear  most  against  themselves. 

Those  are,  therefore,  mistaken  who  think  that  re- 
ligion has  no  longer  any  influence  over  the  masses. 
It  is  true  that  at  first,  owing  to  the  prejudices  and 
sarcasms  of  a  past  age,  the  cassock  is  a  scarecrow  to 
certain  classes.  They  begin  by  suspecting.  But 
when  the  same  persons  come  to  know  the  priest 
well,  when  they  are  once  won  over  by  his  address, 


04  The  Clergy  and  the  PiUpit. 

there  is  no  man  in  the  world — neither  tribune,  nor 
popular  orator,  nor  demagogue — who  ever  acquires 
so  powerful  a  hold  over  them.  It  is  on  that  very  ac- 
count that  those  who  distrust  the  clergy  express 
their  apprehensions,  and  say  : — "  Their  influence  is 
excessive  ;  their  preaching  should  be  interdicted  ; 
otherwise  they  may  proceed  to  abuse  it,  and  then  we 
shall  all  be  upset." 

This  ascendency  is  often  obtained  over  the  most 
stubborn  and  vicious.  Condemned  felons,  despite 
their  vices  and  their  crimes,  have  been  amazed  to 
find  themselves  amenable  to  its  power.  Those  who 
had  been  confided  to  the  mission  of  Toulon,  re- 
marked : — "  How  strange  it  is  that  we  who  require 
armed  soldiers  to  make  us  obey,  nevertheless  cheer- 
fully do  whatever  the  priests  bid  us  !"  And  when  the 
mission  referred  to  terminated,  no  less  than  2800  of 
the  prisoners  partook  of  the  holy  communion. 

No,  the  people  are  not  so  much  estranged  from 
God  and  Christianity  as  is  thought.  We  were  made 
to  understand  each  other  ;  but  evil  passions  have  in- 
terposed between  us  and  them.  They  still  possess 
good  sense  and  an  inward  instinct  which  draws  them 
toward  religion.  They  feel  their  need  of  it,  because 
they  feel  the  need  of  hope.  Religion  belongs  pre- 
eminently to  them;  they  are  linked  to  it  by  their 
sympathies.  Let  us,  moreover,  do  them  this  justice  : 
they,  the  people,  did  not  give  up  religious  practices 


The  People.  65 

•* 

till  long  after  the  other  classes.  They  held  out  for 
more  than  a  century.  Errors  and  scandals  de- 
scended upon  them  from  a  sphere  above  them,  yet 
they  did  not  succumb.  The  churches  were  closed  to 
them,  their  priests  were  driven  away,  even  their  God 
was  hunted,  yet  they  did  not  yield.  They  were 
pursued  even  into  their  cottages,  their  huts,  and 
their  workshops  with  licentious  books  and  pamph- 
lets, and  they  resisted  still. 

At  length,  religion  was  covered  with  ridicule,  the 
mantle  of  derision  was  thrown  over  it,  as  it  was  over 
Christ,  and  they  were  bade  in  scorn  to  behold  their 
religion  !  Then  they  gave  way.  .  .  .  But  the 
crash  did  not  come  till  1830,  as  the  whole  world  can 
testify.  The  people  were  assailed  on  their  weak  side, 
with  taunts  and  sneers  which  they  were  the  least 
capable  of  withstanding. 

But  though  deficient  in  evangelical  morality,  re- 
ligious sentiment  has  still  clung  to  them.  As  a  pious 
and  illustrious  prelate,*  who  knows  the  people  well, 
who  loves  them,  and  is  beloved  in  return,  remarked 
to  the  Emperor,  on  his  way  to  Moulins  : — "  I  thank 
your  Majesty  for  having  understood  that  the  French 
nation,  left  to  its  natural  tendencies,  preserves  the 
character  of  the  most  Christian  nation,  and  that,  in 
spite  of  many  rude  shocks,  the  faith  of  their  fathers 
is  the  first  want  of  their  hearts." 

*  Monseigneur  de  Dreux-Brézé,  Bishop  of  Moulins. 


66  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

A  dignitary  of  religion  is  always  venerated  by  the 
people.  They  run  to  see  him  and  to  solicit  his  bene- 
diction. 

The  visits  of  Monseigneur  the  late  Archbishop  of 
Paris  to  the  faubourgs,  tenanted  by  a  population  re- 
garded as  the  most  irreligious  and  immoral  of  the 
capital,  may  be  adduced  in  illustration  of  this  state- 
ment. Crowds  of  men  and  women  flocked  to  him, 
bent  under  his  paternal  hand,  and  held  up  their 
squalid  and  half  naked  children  to  receive  his  bless- 
ing. In  like  manner,  they  brought  him  from  all  sides 
chaplets,  images,  and  medals  ;  while  those  who  did 
not  possess  such  pious  articles  brought  halfpence, 
that  he  might  bless  them  ;  and  these  they  afterward 
preserved  as  sacred  relix:s. 

The  same  soothing  influence  followed  the  devout 
prelate  in  the  streets,  the  workshops,  and  the  public 
places.  His  words  had  a  magic  effect  everywhere 
among  those  hardened  and  redoubtable  denizens  of 
the  faubourgs. 

It  was  in  a  quarter  as  poor  in  spiritual  as  in  tem- 
poral things  that  an  immense  crowd  thronged  to  him, 
and  Hke  the  Good  Shepherd — like  the  blessed  Sa- 
viour— unwilling  to  send  them  away  fasting,  that  is. 
without  a  few  affectionate  words,  he  mounted  some 
steps,  and  stood  on  a  landing,  which  served  him  for 
a  pulpit.  Among  the  crowd  was  a  group  of  those 
men  who  are  at  perpetual  war  with  society,  keepers 


The  People.  67 

of  smoking-dens,  and  worse  places  too  ;  blacklegs, 
and  setters-up  of  barricades.  They  looked  at  him 
without  removing  their  caps,  and  with  a  sneer  on 
their  lips. 

No  sooner  had  the  prelate  begun  to  speak  than 
there  was  silence.  As  he  proceeded,  one  cap  was 
doffed,  then  two  or  three  more,  and  soon  all  heads 
were  bared,  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  French 
politeness.  When  the  sermon  was  ended,  these  men 
shouted  louder  than  the  rest  : — "  Vive  Monseigneur  ! 
Vive  la  Religion  !" 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  manners  of  the  peo- 
ple are  often  painful  in  the  extreme  ;  but,  then,  they 
have  so  little  to  fall  back  upon,  and  are  surrounded 
by  so  many  temptations.  Ignorance  frets  them,  de- 
bauchery degrades  them,  and,  besides,  having  con- 
stantly to  struggle  against  the  pinchings  of  want,  it 
is  not  surprising  that  they  become,  as  it  were,  Unked 
to  a  necessity  which  weighs  upon  them  so  heavily. 

Even  we,  with  all  our  education,  our  science,  the 
superior  moral  atmosphere  which  we  breathe, — are 
we  always  blameless  .''  When  the  people  look  above 
them,  do  they  always  find  good  examples  in  the 
higher  classes  of  society .?  What  would  you  have 
them  think  when  they  see  men  who  ought  to  be  pat- 
terns of  virtue,  when  they  see,  to  use  their  own  ex- 
pression, respectable  scoundrels,  with  money  in  their 


6S  The  Clergy  a7id  the  Pulpit 

hands  and  lying  words  on  their  hps,  endeavoring  to 
seduce  their  wives  or  their  daughters  ? 

Nevertheless,  they  have  not  lost  the  courage  of 
truthfulness  :  a  rare  thing  nowadays.  They  have 
still  moral  energy  enough  to  condemn  themselves,  to 
condemn  their  own  mode  of  life,  and  to  admit  that 
they  are  wrong-doers.  A  notorious  reprobate,  after 
hearing  a  sermon,  remarked  to  his  companion  : — 
"  All  right  ;  religion,  after  all,  is  not  such  a  humbug 
as  it  has  been  represented."  Scarcely  any  but  the 
people  retain  such  ingenuousness.  Elsewhere  the 
truth  is  not  relished,  is  not  recognized,  is  rather 
thrust  aside  as  an  intruder.  Where,  I  should  like  to 
know,  among  other  classes,  will  you  hear  the  admis- 
sion : — "  I  am  misled  ;  I  am  in  the  wrong  T 

The  people  scarcely  ever  attempt  to  justify  their 
failings  by  reasoning,  or  to  reduce  their  vices  to  a 
system  ;  for  there  exists  in  them  a  sense  of  justice 
and  integrity  which,  when  they  are  calm,  leads  them 
to  confess  that  they  are  unworthy  to  live. 

A  man*  who  was  in  the  habit  of  mixing  with  the 
least  moral  class  in  Paris,  relates  that  he  one  day 
had  the  following  conversation  with  the  father  of  a 
family  whose  union  had  not  been  blessed  by  religion. 

"  I  must  apologize,"  he  remarks,  "  for  reproducing 
this  colloquy  in  all  its  original  crudity  ;  but  I  shall 

*  M.  Gossin,  Mamiel  dc  la  Société  de  Saint- François  Régis ^  p.  143. 


The  People.  69 

invent  nothing  ;  I  shall  merely  repeat  what  was  actu- 
ally said  by  both  parties  the  first  time  this  arginnen- 
tiim  ad  hominem  was  employed. 

"  '  I  reofret  to  find  that  we  cannot  understand  each 
other.  What  !  you  persist  in  maintaining  that  in 
seducing  the  woman  at  your  side  eighteen  years  ago 
you  did  nothing  wrong  T 

"  '  Nothing  at  all.  I  am  an  honest  man  ;  I  have 
never  stolen  nor  committed  murder.  I  was  rather 
gay  when  young  ;  but  there  is  no  harm  in  that.  As 
to  the  woman,  I  did  not  compel  her.  Why  did  she 
allow  herself  to  be  enticed }' 

"'Let  us  speak  on  another  subject.  .  .  .  Are  all 
these  your  children  T 

"  '  No,  sir  ;  we  have  another  at  home,  a  young  lass 
named  Seraphine.' 

"  '  I  am  sorry  you  have  not  produced  her.  I  should 
have  been  very  gla.d  to  see  her.' 

"  '  It  is  very  civil  of  you  to  say  so,  sir.' 

"  '  Is  she  grown-up  Ï 

"  '  Tolerably  :  she  is  twelve  years  old.  She  is  get- 
ting on  nicely  with  the  Sisters,  w^iich  is  very  satis- 
factory. She  sews  well  already,  and  is  a  promising 
girl.' 

"  '  Your  boys  here  are  comely  and  well-behaved, 
and  do  credit  to  the  mother's  care.' 

"  '  Yes,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  what  she  does  for 
them   she   does   thoroughly.     She  keeps  them  well 


yo  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

washed,  and  one  hears  nothing  in  the  morning  but 
"  let  me  comb  you  ;  let  me  wash  you."  You  should 
see  how  she  souses  and  scrubs  them.' 

"  '  Is  Seraphine  as  comely  as  her  brothers  T 

"  '  Do  you  hear  that,  missis  }  What  a  goose  you 
are  ;  won't  you  answer  1  Well,  I  will  decide  for 
both.  On  my  honor,  Seraphine  is  better  looking 
than  any  in  this  house,  though  we  have  eighteen 
lodgers,  who  have  a  jolly  lot  of  damsels  among  them 
of  all  shades.' 

"  (Then  looking  fixedly  at  the  man) — '  In  two  or 
three  years,  Seraphine,  who  is  still  a  child,  will  be  a 
very  attractive  and  modest  young  woman,  and  she 
will  be  a  comfort  to  you.  .  .  .  But  what  would  you 
say  if  a  working-man,  doing  as  you  did  by  her  mo- 
ther, should  seduce  and  dishonor  the  poor  girl  T 

"  He  sprang  up  almost  beside  himself,  and  said  : — 
'  What  should  I  say  ?  I  would  say  nothing  ;  but  I 
would  murder  the  villain  who  dared  to  inveigle  my 
daughter.' 

"  '  You  would  be  wrong  ;  for  the  man,  according  to 
what  you  yourself  have  just  said,  would  be,  in  your 
opinion,  a  perfect  man  ;  for  he  would  neither  have 
killed,  nor  stolen,  nor  forced  your  daughter.  He 
could  only  be  charged  with  having  wished  to  amuse 
himself  a  little  ;  which  you  say  is  not  a  crime.' 

"  Still  beside  himself  with  rage,  he  said  : — '  Never- 
theless, I  would  muider  the  wretch.' 


TJie  People.  71 

"  '  But,  my  friend,  recall  to  mind  what  you  have 
done  yourself,  and  then  judge.' 

"  With  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  pressing  the  hand  of 
his  interlocutor,  he  said  : — '  Forgive  me,  sir  ;  I  lied  to 
myself  when  I  said  what  I  did.  I  was  boasting  just 
as  many  others  of  us  do  ;  but  I  am  better  than  my 
stupid  speeches.' 

"  I  may  add,  as  a  characteristic  trait  of  the  human 
heart,  that  after  this  dialogue,  the  father's  emotion  at 
seeing  his  faults  placed  naked  before  him  was  so 
strong,  that  he  was  seized  with  a  fever  which  lasted 
several  days  ;  that  he  subsequently  thanked  me  most 
warmly  for  having  opened  his  eyes  ;  and  that  I  have 
now  reason  to  believe  in  his  complete  and  sincere 
conversion." 

Are  we  certain  that  v/e  should  find  the  same  frank- 
ness and  courage  elsewhere  .'* 

The  people,  notwithstanding  the  bravado  common 
to  their  class,  deplore  their  failings,  and  if  intimate 
with  them,  you  will  often  hear  them  expressing  their 
regret  in  some  such  style  as  this  : — "  Pity  me,  for  I 
am  most  wretched.  Do  you  think  it  does  not  make 
me  uncomfortable  to  see  my  wife  and  children  miser- 
able, and  to  know  that  I  am  the  cause  of  their  misery  .'' 
I  have  made  good  resolutions  a  thousand  times  over, 
and  have  broken  them  as  often.  My  passions  and 
my  habits  have  become  so  inveterate  that  I  am  un- 
able to  resist  them."    .    .    .    They  are  right  ;  for  left 


72  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

to  themselves  they  will  never  be  able  to  persevere  in 
well-doing.  They  need  the  aid  of  religion,  which 
ought  to  be  afforded  them,  and  which  is  by  no  means 
an  impracticable  task.  Let  us  hear  no  more  of  those 
incessant  excuses  that  nothing  can  be  done  with  them 
on  that  score. 

Away  with  all  discouragement  !  Away  with  all 
despair  !  Those  who  indulge  in  such  feelings  do  us 
infinite  mischief  They  are  a  most  dangerous  class 
in  our  midst  ;  they  will  do  nothing  themselves,  and 
will  not  allow  others  to  do  any  thing.  They  try  to 
prevent  all  good  by  ceaselessly  repeating  : — "  It  will 
never  succeed.  .  .  .  There  are  so  many  obstacles  to 
be  encountered.  ...  It  is  headstrong  to  attempt  it." 

This  is  one  of  the  most  hideous  sores  of  the  age. 
Such  men  accuse  others,  and  yet  never  seem  to  reflect 
that  despair  is  the  greatest  possible  crime  in  the  sight 
of  God. 

Nothing  can  be  done  with  the  French  people  ! 
What,  then,  have  we  come  to  }  We  admit  that  some- 
thing can  be  done  for  felons  in  the  hulks,  for  the 
pagan  Chinese,  for  American  savages,  for  the  canni- 
bals of  Oceania.  We  believe  it,  for  we  send  them 
help  and  missionaries  ;  and  yet  nothing  can  be  done 
for  our  France,  for  the  nation  beloved  of  God  and 
His  Church,  which  sheds  its  blood  and  spends  its 
gold  for  the  conversion  of  the  infidels,  and  where  so 
many  heroic  virtues   still    exist  !     It   is   a   calumny 


The  People.  73 

against  France.  In  order  to  justify  your  own  neglect, 
you  slander  your  brethren,  you  expose  your  ignorance 
of  your  country,  you  ignore  the  power  of  the  Gospel 
and  the  virtue  of  the  Cross.  .  ,  .  Know,  then,  that 
we  may  yet  regenerate  the  people.  .  .  .  Yes,  we  can, 
and  if  we  cannot  we  ought,  for  it  is  a  sacred  duty  ; 
and  he  who  does  not  discharge  his  own  duty  in  that 
respect,  has  no  right  to  give  an  opinion  about  the 
duty  of  others. 

But  what  are  the  means  which  should  be  employed 
to  bring  the  people  nearer  to  the  Gospel } 

Religion  must  first  be  exhibited  to  them  as  it 
really  is — beautiful,  good,  and  lovely  ;  and  then  you 
may  hold  it  up  to  them  as  true,  divine,  and  obli- 
gatory. You  must  first  attract  them  by  the  senses 
and  the  imagination,  by  sentiment,  and  by  the  heart. 
The  people  like  to  be  interested,  touched,  moved. 
They  are  fond  of  sentiment,  of  festivals,  and  shows. 
After  a  week  spent  in  absorbing  material  drudgery 
their  poor  souls  require  the  breath  of  the  Divine 
word  to  animate  and  cheer  them.  To  them  espe- 
cially religion  should  be  "  glad  tidings" — should  bring 
them  mental  repose,  refreshment,  and  peace.  We 
should  set  out  by  making  them  to  feel,  to  love,  and 
to  bless  ;  instead  of  which  we  begin  with  reasoning, 
and  end  with  the  same.  We  have  a  mania,  a  rage 
for  reasoning  ;  but  make  the  people  love  first,  then 
you  may  reason,  and  will  be  understood. 


74  TJie  Clergy  arid  the  Pulpit. 

I  say  that  in  order  to  make  religion  lovely  in  the 
eyes  of  the  people,  you  should  exhibit  it  under  its 
most  attractive  aspect.  Point  out  the  good  which  it 
does  on  all  sides,  to  orphans,  to  children  and  their 
parents,  to  the  forsaken,  to  the  people  themselves, 
their  wives,  their  daughters,  and  their  fathers.  Ap- 
peal to  their  good  sense  and  to  their  heart.  Ask  : 
"  Is  it  not  true  ?  I  refer  the  decision  to  your  own 
judgment."  Say  to  the  people,  but  with  overflowing 
affection  : — "  My  dear  friends,  do  what  you  will,  you 
will  never  find  a  better  resource  than  religion  ;  reli- 
gion will  always  be  your  best  stay.  .  .  .  When  you 
have  spent  your  all,  when  the  world  will  have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  you,  when  your  bodies  shall  be  worn 
out  by  old  age  and  sickness,  when  from  dread  of  you 
men  will  flee  from  you  as  from  a  contagion,  you  will 
still  find  by  your  bedside  a  priest  or  a  sister  of  cha- 
rity to  care  for  you  and  to  bless  you."  * 

But  in  order  to  make  religion  beloved,  you  must 
secure  some  love  for  the  priest  also  ;  for  the  people 
confound  our  cause  with  that  of  God.  In  their  esti- 
mation, religion  is  what  the  priest  is  ;  and  if  they  do 
not  love  the  one,  they  will  hardly  entertain  any  love 
for  the  other. 

The  priest,  then,  should  appear  to  them  surrounded 
with   a   halo  of  charity.      He  must   make   himself 

*  Le  Manuel  de  Charité. 


The  People.  75 

known  ;  he  will  always  gain  by  being  known.  He 
has  been  depicted  in  such  dark  colors  that  a  true 
view  of  him  will  effectually  remove  many  prejudices, 
and  give  occasion  to  the  oft-recurring  remark  :  — 
"  Would  that  all  priests  were  like  this  one," 

But  if  the  people  no  longer  come  to  us,  we  must 
go  to  them.  We  don't  mind  going  after  the  heathen 
of  America  and  Asia  ;  we  cross  the  seas  to  get  at 
them  ;  whereas  there  are  in  our  midst — in  our  work- 
shops, our  cottages,  and  throughout  the  country — 
tens  of  thousands,  perhaps  millions,  of  practical  pa- 
gans. We  know  this  well,  we  confess  it,  we  deplore 
it,  and  yet  we  hesitate  to  cross  the  distance  which 
separates  us  from  them  !  Poor  French  souls  !  Can 
it,  indeed,  be  that  you  are  not  of  so  much  value  as 
the  souls  of  Chinese  "l 

To  come  to  us  the  people  must  know  the  value,  the 
necessity  of  religion.  But  do  they  entertain  any  such 
idea  t  Surrounded  as  they  have  been  with  so  many 
passions  and  prejudices,  is  it  surprising  that  they  are 
now  insensible  and  mistrustful }  Should  we  be  better 
than  they  if  we  had  breathed  the  same  pestiferous 
atmosphere  }  If  they  are  weak  in  the  faith,  it  is  our 
duty  to  pity  them,  according  to  the  apostolic  injunc- 
tion : — "  We  that  are  strong  ought  to  bear  the  in- 
firmities of  the  weak,  and  not  to  please  ourselves." 

But  one  replies  : — "  I  cannot  go  to  the  people,  for 
I  don't  know  what  to  say  to  them,  how  to  address 


y6  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

them."  Well,  I  will  tell  you.  The  best  way  of  win- 
ning them,  and  others  too,  is  to  know  how  to  listen. 
That  is  one  of  the  greatest  talents  in  the  direction  of 
human  affairs.  The  man  to  whom  you  have  listened 
attentively  will  always  go  away  satisfied  with  himself, 
and  with  you  also. 

You  do  the  people  good  by  the  bare  fact  of  listen- 
ing to  them.  Let  them,  therefore,  complain  and  talk 
nonsense  to  their  hearts*  content.  Overlook  their 
errors,  prejudices,  outbursts  of  passion,  and  their  pro- 
fanities, too.  Let  them  discharge  all  the  gall  which 
is  in  their  hearts,  and  then  they  will  be  far  more 
tractable.  They  will  tell  you  that  they  have  no  time 
to  practise  religious  duties  ;  that  they  have  no  need 
of  religion  ;  that  it  is  enough  to  be  honest  ;  that  they 
don't  beheve  in  another  life  ;  that  Providence  is  un- 
just, bestowing  all  the  comforts  on  one  class,  and  all 
the  miseries  on  the  other.  You  may  also  expect  to 
meet  with  opprobious  personalities.  They  will  tell 
you  that  priests  are  just  like  other  men  ;  that  they 
only  work  when  they  are  paid,  and  so  forth.  Over- 
look all  such  remarks  ;  they  are  enemies  which  are 
taking  their  departure,  and  you  will  have  fewer  to 
encounter.  Hear  all,  and  be  not  disconcerted  at  any 
thing  that  you  hear  ;  on  the  contrary,  after  such  an 
explosion,  redouble  your  kindness,  assail  the  heart 
where  your  attack  is  least  expected,  sympathize  cor- 
dially with  them,  give  them  a  hearty  shake  of  the 


The  People.  *j'j 

hand,  and  on  leaving  say  with  candor  : — "  Well,  well, 
I  perceive  that  there  is  good  in  you.  At  all  events, 
you  are  frank,  and  I  like  frankness.  You  are  not  as 
bad  as  you  think.  I  will  call  again  to-morrow  and 
have  another  chat  with  you."  In  this  way  you  may 
baffle  the  most  diabolical  ill-will. 

Then,  when  a  friendly  footing  has  been  established, 
you  may  refer  to  the  most  salient  objections  and 
errors,  and  your  words  will  be  like  so  many  gleams 
of  light.  Who  knows  but  that  the  individuals  them- 
selves will  not  be  the  first  to  say  : — ''  I  know  what 
you  are  referring  to  ;  but  make  yourself  easy  on  that 
score,  for  iimch  that  I  said  the  other  day  was  in  order 
to  get  rid  of  y  oil' 

Occasionally  you  will  have  to  deal  with  a  blunt 
and  surly  character.  Ask  such  an  one,  in  an  affec- 
tionate manner,  after  he  has  expended  his  curses  and 
oaths  : — "  Is  that  all  that  you  have  to  urge  against 
religion  and  society }  It  is  all  you  know,  perhaps  ; 
but  I  could  tell  you  a  great  deal  more.  You  have 
forgotten  this  and  overlooked  that,"  till  at  length  he 
will  be  induced  to  say  : — "  I  perceive  that  you  are  ban- 
tering me  ;"  and  he  will  never  afterward  repeat  his 
objections  or  his  imprecations. 

But,  good  God  !  why  are  we  so  much  startled  and 
horrified  when  we  hear  such  profanities  }  It  is  the 
very  way  to  increase  the  evil.  Are  we  ignorant  of 
what  a  man  is  who  is  vicious,  or  ignorant,  or  passion- 


73  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

ate  ?  Does  he  always  know  the  drift  of  his  words  ? 
The  man  of  the  present  age  has  a  special  claim  to  the 
pardon  which  the  Saviour  prayed  for  on  the  cross. 
Besides,  the  profane  man  is  not  always  so  far  from 
God  as  is  thought  ;  such  an  one  is  not  the  most  diffi- 
cult of  conversion.  A  very  witty  man,  speaking  of 
another  whose  restoration  to  religion  has  since  glad- 
dened the  Church,  remarked  : — "  I  begin  to  have  hope 
of  him  ;  for  when  one  talks  about  Christianity  to  him 
he  is  annoyed,  and  blasphemes."  We  have  the  beset- 
ting foible  of  readily  believing  those  who  tell  us  that 
they  have  no  faith.  They  must,  indeed,  regard  us  as 
most  credulous  simpletons  when  they  see  us  approach 
them  with  a  cart-load  of  argument  to  prove  to  them 
what  they  already  know  as  well  as  we  do,  or  what 
they  would  know  if  their  poor  hearts  were  a  little  less 
diseased. 

Here,  again,  we  see  that  charity  must  initiate  and 
direct  our  efforts.  As  to  subsequent  measures,  if  you 
would  win  over  the  people,  if  you  would  acquire  an 
irresistible  influence  over  them,  busy  yourself  in  what 
concerns  them,  and  be  unremitting  in  your  care  of 
their  poor.  I  will  even  go  so  far  as  to  say,  make  a 
semblance  of  taking  this  interest  in  them,  and  you 
will  gain  a  great  ascendency  over  them,  your  words 
will  have  a  magic  eflect  upon  them,  and  they  will  be 
ready  to  overlook  every  thing  else  in  you,  even  the 
fact  of  your  being  a  priest.    .    .    .     This  is  a  subject 


TJie  People,  79 

deserving  the  serious  consideration  of  those  who  have 
a  hearty  desire  to  labor  for  the  salvation  of  souls. 

A  priest  enters  a  workshop,  say,  of  gunsmiths.  On 
perceiving  the  cassock,  those  blackened  figures  im- 
mediately become  blacker  still.  They  purposely  turn 
their  backs,  in  order  to  give  him  no  inducement  to 
address  them,  and  should  he  do  so,  the  reply  is  gen- 
erally a  curt  "  Yes,  sir,"  uttered  in  as  dry  and  morose 
a  tone  as  possible.  He  walks  through  the  establish- 
ment, and  meets  everywhere  with  a  similar  recep- 
tion. Meanwhile,  one  of  the  workmen  whispers  some- 
thing to  the  foreman,  which  the  priest  fancies  may  be 
a  suggestion  for  his  immediate  expulsion  ;  but  he  is 
speedily  reassured.  What  passed  is  transmitted  from 
one  group  to  another,  and  suddenly  the  countenances 
and  hearts  of  all  undergo  a  change.  Instead  of 
turning  their  backs,  the  workmen  now  move  side- 
ways, as  if  to  invite  a  colloquy  as  the  visitor  moves 
along,  and  before  he  utters  a  word,  they  all  stand 
ready,  with  cap  in  hand,  to  welcome  his  address.  The 
men  become  at  once  polite,  amiable,  charming- 
Frenchmen,  in  fact,  in  the  best  meaning  of  the  word. 
The  whispered  sentence  was  the  sacramental  saying 
of  the  poor  : — "  This  priest  is  kind  to  the  unfortunate  ; 
he  loves  the  people  ;  he  is  not  a  proud  man."  O 
wondrous  power  of  charity  !  how  little  art  thou  un- 
derstood t  and  yet  thou  canst  thus  tame  even  the 
most  unruly  !     We  hear  much  on  all  sides  about  the 


8o  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

best  means  of  enlightening  and  reforming  the  people, 
and  of  preventing  them  from  harboring  envy  and 
hatred.  What  is  really  required  to  that  end  is,  as 
we  have  been  endeavoring  to  show,  the  exercise  of 
charity. 

But,  further,  would  you  acquire  an  unlimited  sway 
over  the  people  }  Would  you  exert  a  divine  power 
over  them  t  Become  poor,  and  live  in  an  humble 
dwelling.  Herein  I  no  longer  insist  on  duties  and 
obligations  ;  I  merely  give  the  counsels  of  charity, 
and  the  reader  may,  if  he  pleases,  skip  over  the  next 
few  lines.  Yes,  unfurnish  your  house  for  the  poor  ; 
send  your  silver  plate,  if  you  have  any,  to  the  money- 
changer ;  send  your  fauteuils  and  your  couches  to  the 
fancy  warehouse  ;  give  one  of  your  mattresses  to  him 
who  has  none  ;  send  your  clock  to  the  pawnbroker, 
and  let  your  watch  go  and  exchange  places  with  it 
occasionally.  Contend  for  your  left-ofF  clothes  and 
linen  with  your  old  housekeeper,  who  will  threaten  to 
be  seriously  vexed  if  you  attempt  to  rob  her  of  her 
perquisites.  Accustom  yourself  to  privations.  Have 
a  room  like  that  of  the  Cardinal  Cheverus  :  a  small 
table  and  a  chair  constituted  the  furniture,  a  truck 
bedstead  covered  with  a  light  mattress  formed  his 
couch,  and  the  most  miserable  room  in  his  palace  was 
that  which  he  chose  to  occupy.* 

*  Vie  du  Cardinal ,  p.  316. 


The  People.  8 1 

Do  this,  and  then  speak  and  act,  and  you  will 
be  listened  to,  believed,  blessed,  worshipped.  Your 
heart  will  overflow  with  joy,  so  much  so  that  you 
may  be  induced  to  say  : — "  I  fear  lest  I  am  receiv- 
ing my  reward  here,  and  that  none  awaits  me  in 
heaven." 

Such  voluntary  poverty  not  only  impresses  the 
people,  it  exercises  also  a  powerful  influence  on  the 
highest  intellects,  transforming  and  disposing  them 
to  acknowledge  the  truth. 

A  person  who  had  taken  a  prominent  part  in  public 
affairs  made  the  following  remarks  after  an  interview 
with  an  eminently  pious  man  : — "  What  most  impress- 
ed me  was  not  his  language,  which,  nevertheless,  was 
powerful  and  keen  ;  but  it  was  his  furniture,  his 
wretched  pallet,  his  three  rush  chairs  and  rickety 
table — all  which  formed  a  most  appropriate  frame,  so 
to  speak,  to  his  anchorite  figure.  I  returned  home 
saying  : — '  I  have  seen  something  divine.'  "  These 
are  the  ways  of  doing  good  which  cost  little,  and  are 
within  the  reach  of  every  one. 

But  to  return.  As  I  was  remarking,  the  priest 
must  be  known  and  loved,  in  order  that,  through 
him,  religion  may  be  known  and  loved.  To  attain 
this,  let  him  first  appear  to  the  people  as/////  of  grace, 
and  afterward  2js>  full  of  truth.  Let  love  precede  truth, 
and  then  the  latter  will  enter  into  the  heart  as  into 
its  own  domain.     Argument  must  be  avoided,  lest  we 


82  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

drive  the  man  of  the  people  to  the  miserable  vanity 
of  setting  himself  up  as  an  enemy  to  Christianity. 
Above  all,  we  must  be  on  our  guard  against  humiliat- 
ing any  one  ;  for  it  is  very  easy  to  reduce  a  man  to 
silence  by  a  witticism,  or  to  make  him  fall  into  incon- 
sistency when  he  is  not  a  Christian.  With  the  rea- 
son of  God  it  is  always  possible  to  nonplus  the  rea- 
soning of  men. 

In  a  word,  we  should  consult  our  hearts  much,  and 
our  heads  only  a  little.  Yes,  let  us  love  the  poor 
people,  who  have  been  so  little  loved  during  their 
lives.  Are  not  the  people  the  most  notable  part  of 
our  family }  I  mean  of  the  priest's  family  ;  for  we 
have  no  other  to  love.  It  is  true  that  we  do  not  find 
its  members  very  amiable  at  first  ;  but  we  soon  get 
attached  to  them  :  we  even  become  enthusiastic  about 
them,  and  experience  a  sincere  pleasure  in  associat- 
ing with  those  dear  mauvais  sujets.  Especially  must 
we  bear  with  the  weak,  with  the  smoking  flax  and  the 
bruised  reed.  We  must  have  a  kindly  word  for  all  :  a 
smile  for  this  one,  a  salutation  for  that  one,  a  picture 
for  the  little  child  of  the  more  depraved.  That  child 
will  love  us  ;  the  mother  will  like  nothing  better  than 
to  do  the  same,  and  perchance  the  father  may  follow. 
.  .  .  In  a  word,  we  must  bring  into  play  all  the 
assiduities  and  the  holy  wiles  of  charity. 

I  conceive  that  the  blessed  Saviour  lived  and  act- 
ed in  this  way,  in  the  midst  of  that  wicked  nation 


The  People.  83 

which  put  him  to  death.  He  began  by  doing  good 
— cœpit  facere  ;  and  then  He  taught — docere.  He 
healed,  He  comforted,  He  pitied,  He  ate  with  sinners, 
He  took  the  part  of  the  guilty  woman,  He  deplored 
the  impending  ruin  of  His  country. 

Seize  every  opportunity  of  mixing  with  the  people 
and  of  showing  them  kindness  ;  even  those  who 
seem  the  least  promising.  Are  not  all  a  source  of 
good  to  those  who  love  } 

You  are  a  priest,  and  in  walking  along  hear  some 
one  imitating  the  cry  of  a  raven.  Such  an  occur- 
rence is  less  frequent  now,  but  it  happens  occasional- 
ly. You  recognize  a  human  voice,  for  you  hear  the 
accompanying  remark  : — "It  will  be  foul  weather  to- 
day, and  some  misfortune  will  befall  us,  for  the  ra- 
vens are  on  the  wing."  Take  no  notice  of  the  ill-na- 
ture, and  do  not  assume  a  proud  or  disdainful  demean- 
or. It  is  vulgar  to  do  so,  and  by  no  means  Christian. 
The  first  chance  comer  could  do  no  more.  But,  with 
a  gracious  smile  on  your  countenance,  and  fervent 
charity  in  your  heart,  and,  above  all,  avoiding  any 
thing  like  irony,  accost  the  man  somewhat  in  this 
style: — "  So,  my  friend,  it  seems  to  amuse  you  to  cry 
like  a  raven.  I  am  glad  of  it.  There  is  so  little  en- 
joyment in  the  world  that  I  am  gratified  to  have 
given  you  a  moment's  pleasure.  Besides,  you  are 
quite  right  ;  our  dress  is  as  black  as  the  raven. 
Nevertheless,  if  you  knew  us  well,  you  would  dis- 


84  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

cover  that  we  are  not  as  bad  as  our  dress  is  black. 
But,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?"  This  will  lead  to 
conversation,  explanations  will  follow,  a  good  under- 
standing and  mutual  esteem  will  be  the  result,  and 
you  will  take  leave  of  each  other  with  a  h  earty  shake 
of  the  hand.  Thus,  an  embittered  spirit  may  be  re- 
stored to  calm  and  to  a  better  judgment  ;  you  will 
have  made  a  friend  yourself,  and  perhaps  gained  one 
over  to  God;  for  who  can  tell  to  what  a  favorable 
issue  such  simple  beginnings  may  lead  t  God  be 
praised  !  many  souls  have  been  reclaimed  to  religion 
and  to  society  by  similar  means. 

I  must  forewarn  you,  however,  that  success  will 
not  always  attend  your  efforts.  You  will  often  en- 
counter obstacles,  and  even  opprobrium  ;  but  what 
then }  To  a  Christian,  that  will  not  be  the  worst 
feature  in  the  case.  Thereby,  in  the  first  place,  you 
will  learn  to  be  more  a  man  ;  for  one  who  has  never 
known  strife  and  conflict,  victory  and  defeat,  is  not  a 
man  :  he  has  not  lived  :  he  does  not  know  himself,  he 
does  not  know  others  ;  he  is  ignorant  of  the  science 
of  life.  He  is  an  imperfect  man  :  a  man  who  has 
come  short  of  manhood  :  because  he  has  never  fallen 
back  upon  himself  to  discover  the  treasures  which 
Providence  has  hidden  there.  He  will  never  be  a 
man  to  initiate,  or  a  man  of  action.  It  is  only  obsta- 
cles and  contests  which  form  useful  as  well  as  great 
men.     There  is,  somehow,  a  most  unreasonable  ten- 


The  People.  85 

dency  in  us  always  to  be  sure  of  success  ;  and  yet 
our  blessed  Lord  expired  in  anguish,  He.     .     . 

As  to  jeers  and  sarcasms,  you  may  fully  reckon  on 
them.     Occasionally,  moreover,  you  will  be  made  to 
act  the  part  of  a  dupe  or  ninny.     So  much  the  bet- 
ter ;  such  experience  will  serve  as  a  useful  counter- 
poise to  our  natural  arrogance.      Such   things  are 
trifles  compared  with  what  our  missionaries  have  to 
endure  among  the  infidels.     They  brave  the  sword, 
and  we  are  afraid  of  needles'  points,  and  call  our  fear 
prudence.     But  why  this  dread  of  being   derided  1 
Can  it  be  that  we  are  ignorant  of  the  French  people  t 
Are  we  not  aware  that  they  must  banter  or  ridicule 
some  one,  even  though  it  be  a  benefactor  t     What 
else  can  we  expect  1     It  is  their  nature  ;   but  they 
are  sterling  at  bottom.     Join,  then,  to  all  your  other 
benevolent  actions,  that  of  allowing  them  occasional- 
ly to  sneer  at  you.     Should  an  opportunity  offer,  say 
to  them,  in  the  words  of  St.  Chrysostom  : — "  I  give 
you  leave  to  turn  me  into  ridicule  ;  I  will  forgive  all 
the  evil  which  you  may  say  of  me,  on  the  express 
condition  that  you  become  less  wicked  and  less  un- 
happy."    Here,   then,   we   have   another  means   of 
touching  the  heart  ;  for  even  revilers  will  find  it  dif- 
ficult to  help  loving  one  who  thus  throws  himself 
npon  their  mercy,  and  sacrifices  self  for  their  welfare. 

A  priest  who  was  in  the  habit  of  visiting  prisons, 
acting  like  a  clever  man,  generally  addressed  the  most 


86  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

obstinate  of  the  inmates,  and  made  it  a  point  to  en- 
ter into  conversation  with  the  groups  which  appear- 
ed to  be  the  most  vicious  and  ill-disposed,  knowing 
that  if  these  were  converted  the  rest  would  probably 
follow.  He  was  specially  gracious  to  the  more  im- 
pious, so  much  so  that  the  remark  was  often  made  to 
him  by  one  and  another  : — "  Don't  you  remember 
that  it  was  I  who  abused  you  the  other  day  ?"  "  Of 
course  I  do,"  he  replied  ;  "  but  do  you  imagine  that  I 
care  for  abuse  ?  On  the  contrary,  I  consider  myself 
rather  lucky  when  I  get  a  good  round  of  it,  and  feel 
to  like  the  abuser  the  more.  Besides,  I  was  fully 
convinced  that  you  were  better  than  your  language 
might  lead  one  to  believe."  When  he  retired,  the 
observation  was  frequently  made  : — "  There's  a  priest 
unlike  the  rest.  He  acts  up  to  his  religion.  I  don't 
know  but  that  I  shall  confess  to  him  ;"  and  the 
veiled  intent  was  often  carried  into  practice.  .  .  . 
Act  in  this  way,  and  you  will  be  loved  more  and 
more  ;  and  when  men  have  learned  to  love  the  ser- 
vant on  earth,  they  may  perchance  learn  to  love  his 
Master  who  is  in  heaven. 

This  done,  you  will  have  made  a  good  beginning, 
and  you  must  persevere  by  presenting  religion  under 
its  most  attractive  aspect.  Generally,  however,  reli- 
gion has  been  exhibited  to  the  people  in  a  manner 
which  imposes  too  great  a  restraint  on  individual 
Hberty. 


The  People.  87 

We  should  talk  less  about  what  religion  forbids, 
and  a  little  more  of  the  benefits  which  it  imparts. 
Don't  be  always  saying  : — "  Religion  forbids  this, 
and  that,  and  the  other  thing  ;"  for  you  will  turn  the 
people  against  it,  and  will  be  charged  with  insisting 
on  what  is  impossible.  We  Frenchmen  are  very 
children  of  Adam — and  of  Eve  too.  It  is  quite 
enough  for  a  thing  to  be  forbidden  to  induce  us  to 
do  it.  We  have  a  ravenous  taste  for  the  forbidden 
fruit.  For  instance,  a  man  curses  and  swears  in 
your  presence.  Don't  tell  him  that  it  is  a  sin,  an  abo- 
minable habit  ;  for  he  will  then  take  a  malicious  plea- 
sure in  repeating  his  profanity.  Tell  him  rather  that 
it  is  unseemly,  that  it  is  vulgar,  that  it  shows  bad 
taste,  and  he  will  abstain  ;  for  all,  even  the  most  de- 
praved, wish  to  be  thought  well  brought  up.  Let  us 
therefore  talk  less  of  vices  and  more  of  virtues. 

Let  us  now  suppose  that  you  are  brought  in  con- 
tact with  a  crafty  and  narrow-minded  class  of  per- 
sons. Disconcert  all  their  manoeuvres  by  a  straight- 
forward and  sincere  address,  and  by  a  still  more  frank 
demeanor,  always  combined  with  discretion.  Then 
there  will  be  no  gratification  in  deceiving  you. 
Above  all,  never  resort  to  underhand  measures,  and 
carefully  avoid  slander.  The  people  hate  them  :  and 
God  and  His  truth  have  no  need  of  a  secret  police. 

When  you  have  to  deal  with  an  egotistical  and 
slanderous  set,  never  speak  of  egotism  or  slander  ; 


88  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

but  scatter  love  broadcast  among  them,  make  the 
good  chords  of  their  hearts  vibrate,  filHng  them  with 
the  holy  palpitations  of  charity  toward  their  breth- 
ren. Thus  slander  and  egotism  will  vanish,  accord- 
ing to  the  saying  of  St.  François  de  Sales  : — "  When 
there  is  a  fire  in  the  house,  every  thing  is  thrown  out 
through  the  windows." 

In  large  cities,  where  the  people  are  quick,  bus- 
tling, and  petulant,  your  speech  should  be  lively, 
frank,  bold,  winning,  and  irresistible,  that  it  may 
cause  their  hearts  to  thrill  with  emotion,  and  excite 
their  interest  by  occasionally  drawing  a  smile  from 
them.  In  small  towns,  on  the  contrary,  be  less  bold 
and  more  circumspect,  and  let  it  be  your  first  aim  to 
acquire  the  confidence  of  the  people.  Study  your 
ground  well,  the  prevailing  prejudices,  and  even  the 
local  routine. 

Novelties  often  engender  distrust.  To  gain  cur- 
rency for  them,  you  must  secure  the  affections  of 
your  charge,  and  soar  above  petty  ideas  and  feelings. 
Be  impassible  and  kind  in  the  midst  of  the  puerile 
interests  which  surround  you.  Be  just,  for  the 
people  love  justice  :  they  even  love  a  severe  man 
who  is  just  ;  how  much  more,  then,  will  they  regard 
such  an  one  if  he  is  benevolent  also  }  Confidence 
once  restored,  go  to  the  main  point  ;  stir  up  men's 
consciences,  appeal  to  the  better  part  of  human 
nature,  and  throw  routine  overboard.     Bring  religion 


The  People.  89 

into  close  contact  with  those  hearts  which  seem  so 
cold,  and  you  will  witness  things  unknown  to  those 
who  believe  these  people  to  be  indifferent  or  hostile, 
simply  because,  as  is  often  the  case,  the  people  in 
small  towns  are  not  known.  They  are  looked  at  too 
near,  they  are  judged  by  the  exterior,  and  almost  al- 
ways by  those  characteristics  wherein  they  clash 
against  ourselves. 

There  is  another  reason  why  you  should  keep 
aloof  from  the  narrow-mindedness  above  mentioned. 
One  frequents  certain  excellent  families  of  the  local- 
ity who  are  devoutly  inclined  and  are  munificent  to 
the  Church.  There  is  no  harm  in  that  ;  but  it  often 
happens  that  these  worthy  persons  have  rather  con- 
tracted views,  and  are  not  altogether  exempt  from 
petty  passions.  They  are  fond  of  hearing  and  re- 
peating some  ill-natured  gossip,  or  the  least  edifying 
news  of  the  day  ;  and  as  we  are  all  apt  to  acquire 
some  of  the  ideas  of  those  with  whom  we  associate, 
one  comes  at  length  to  look  at  things  with  their  eyes, 
and  finally  adopts  some  such  style  as  this  : — "  My 
parish  is  this,  my  parish  wishes  that  ;"  whereas,  if 
matters  were  closely  analyzed,  it  would  turn  out  that 
the  alleged  wish  of  the  parish  is  confined  to  a  few  of 
those  aforesaid  pious  souls. 

The  next  false  step  is  to  adopt  a  self-conceited 
course  of  action  and  of  religious  teaching,  wholly 
irrespective   of    the    Catholic    Church  :    nothing   is 


90  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

thought  of  what  may  be  done  elsewhere.  "  Success 
can  only  be  achieved  in  such  a  way,"  becomes  the 
expression  of  this  self-sufficiency  ;  while  those  who 
fall  into  it  grow  exclusive  and  empirical,  and  forget 
that,  thanks  be  to  God,  the  ways  of  doing  good  are 
multifarious,  and  among  them  such  as  are  suited  to 
all  dispositions  and  characters.  Nay,  it  will  be  fortu- 
nate if  this  conceit  does  not  assume  to  have  done  all 
that  could  be  done,  and  to  deny  the  possibility  of 
others  doing  better  or  more.  Happy  indeed  is  the 
man  who  can  truly  bear  such  a  testimony  to  himself! 
We  war  against  prejudices  :  let  us  therefore  beware 
of  entertaining  any  ourselves,  for  they  are  not  the 
easiest  enemies  to  be  dislodged.  Yes,  we  sometimes 
circumscribe,  we  confine  the  beautiful  Catholic  re- 
ligion within  the  small  town  where  we  ourselves 
reside  ;  we  recognize  it  there,  and  there  only  ;  it  is 
taught  as  it  should  be  only  there  ;  no  good  can  be 
done  except  what  is  done  there,  whether  that  said 
small  town  be  called  Quimperlé  or  Saint-Pierre-de- 
Chignac. 

As  regards  the  people  in  rural  districts,  who  are 
dull,  timid,  susceptible,  and  rather  gross,  you  must 
strive  to  open  out  their  souls  in  order  that  religion 
may  penetrate  them.  They  are  not  over-exacting, 
not  having  been  spoilt  on  that  score,  and  a  very  little 
attention  satisfies  them.  A  token  of  good-will,  a 
salutation,  an  act  of  politeness,  a  trifling  gift  bestow- 


The  People.  9 1 

ed  on  their  children,  will  suffice  to  attract  them  to- 
ward religion  ;  for,  generally  speaking,  when  it  is 
properly  presented  to  them,  they  are  attached  to  it  : 
they  love  it,  they  are  proud  of  their  Church  and  of 
their  curé,  and  are  ready  to  fight  to  prove  that  he  is 
the  most  accomplished  priest  in  the  kingdom. 

The  peasant  must  never  be  provoked  or  pushed  to 
extremes.  When  he  resists,  don't  attack  him  in  front, 
but  turn  the  difficulty  by  laying  hold  of  one  of  his 
weaker  points,  some  one  of  the  good  fibres  of  his 
heart  ;  otherwise,  the  more  you  talk  and  threaten  the 
more  he  will  consider  it  a  duty  not  to  listen  to  you. 

Never  be  at  variance  with  any  one.  The  priest 
should  have  no  enemies,  and  should  not  be  content 
while  he  has  any.  I  do  not  like  to  hear  the  remark  : 
"  That  man  is  my  enemy."  Christ  never  said  so  ;  but 
He  did  say  : — "  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know 
not  what  they  do." 

One  of  the  most  effectual  ways  of  gaining  over  the 
peasant,  as  well  as  the  people  generally,  is  to  show 
great  confidence  in  him,  and  to  raise  him  in  his  own 
eyes.  Don't  be  chary  either  of  encouragement  or 
commendation  when  he  has  but  partially  deserved 
them.  Suppose  him  to  be  all  that  you  could  wish  ; 
you  will  thereby  pave  the  way  to  impart  some  useful 
truths  to  him.  Exalt  his  good  quahties  in  his  own 
estimation.  He  has  fallen  so  low  that  you  need  not 
be  afraid  of  making  him  vain,  or  of  raising  him  too 


92  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

high.  May  you  rather  succeed  in  exalting  him  to 
heaven  !  Did  not  Christ  come  to  raise  the  fallen  ? 
Carrying  about  with  him,  as  man  does,  the  remem- 
brance of  his  noble  origin,  he  finds  it  very  hard  to 
resign  himself  to  being  a  nonentity  on  the  earth. 
For  my  part,  I  prefer  a  little  vaaity  to  the  mania  of 
envy  and  hatred. 

In  this  respect  also,  timidity  has  led  to  our  passive 
cooperation  with  the  malevolent.  We  have  suffered 
the  people  to  be  too  much  depressed.  We  have 
allowed  them  to  be  practically  told  that  they  are 
nothing  and  the  rich  every  thing  ;  that  the  lot  of  the 
disinherited  poor  is  toil,  misery,  and  contempt  ;  that 
of  the  rich,  affluence,  enjoyment,  and  honors.  Ra- 
ther raise  the  people  by  telling  them,  in  the  accents 
of  truth,  that  they  are  great  in  the  estimation  of  God 
and  the  Gospel  ;  that  they  have  their  share  of  dignity 
and  honor,  and  have  no  cause  to  envy  others. — "  My 
friends,  the  rich  have  their  advantages  and  you  have 
yours.  They  have  their  joys  and  so  have  you.  Be- 
ware of  envying  them.  A  good  workman  !  why, 
such  an  one  is  the  spoilt  child  of  Providence.  You 
are  mistaken  in  thinking  that  wealth  alone  brings 
happiness.  The  rich  happy,  indeed  !  How  can  any 
one  be  led  into  such  a  delusion  t  You  know  not 
what  they  have  to  suffer  :  their  sufferings  are  fearful  ; 
and  if  I  wished  to  discover  the  most  poignant  sorrows 
on  earth,  I  should  not  knock  at  the  hut  or  cottage  to 


The  People.  93 

seek  for  them.  I  should  knock  at  the  gates  of  those 
splendid  mansions  which  adorn  our  squares.  It  is 
there,  behind  those  triple  curtains,  that  I  should  find 
them  with  their  claws  of  iron  embedded  in  broken 
hearts.  .  .  .  My  friends,  with  a  stout  heart  and  two 
strong  arms  you  may  be  as  deserving,  as  happy,  as 
great,  as  noble  as  any  one." 

But  this  must  not  only  be  said  ;  the  people  must 
be  treated  in  such  a  manner  that  they  may  under- 
stand it.  We  must  respect  them  much,  in  order  that 
they  may  learn  to  respect  themselves  ;  showing  them 
always  due  deference  :  as,  indeed,  we  should  show  all 
men.  In  a  word,  we  should  practise,  in  our  dealings 
with  the  people,  all  the  decorum  and  refined  polite- 
ness of  the  drawing-room  ;  with  greater  sincerity,  to 
boot. 

For,  indeed,  they  have  more  need  of  such  treat- 
ment than  others.  As  manifested  toward  them  it 
would  be  novel  and  efficacious  ;  elsewhere  it  is  gene- 
rally vain  and  barren.  This  kind  of  politeness  charms 
and  raises  them  out  of  that  moral  degradation,  the 
remembrance  of  which  besets  and  weighs  them  down. 
So  treated  they  will  cease  to  hate,  to  envy,  or  to 
chafe  ;  and  will  learn  to  love,  to  be  resigned,  to  have 
better  aspirations  :  and,  withal,  they  will  bless  you. 

The  best  way  to  direct,  to  benefit,  and  to  reclaim 
the  people  to  religion,  is  to  develop  the  good  senti- 
ments which  lie   dormant  in   the   recesses  of  their 


94  The  Clergy  and  the  Ptdpit. 

hearts  ;  the  foremost  of  which  is  charity,  or  the  spirit 
of  self-sacrifice. 

France  is  the  home  of  charity  :  it  exists  among 
the  high,  the  low,  and  the  middle  classes.  The  peo- 
ple are  naturally  sympathizing.  As  already  remark- 
ed, it  is  a  pleasure  to  see  their  readiness  to  oblige. 
The  rich  class  are  charitable  ;  but  are  they  more  so 
than  the  popular  classes  }  I  will  not  judge  ;  I  prefer 
saying  to  all  :  "  Well  done  ;  onward  !" 

If  you  wish  to  inspire  a  man  of  the  people  with 
good-feeling,  calm,  and  a  love  of  the  truth,  prevail  on 
him  to  perform  a  charitable  act.  Get  him  to  comfort 
or  to  relieve  some  one,  even  though  you  undertake  to 
compensate  him  for  so  doing. 

When  you  meet  with  a  hasty  or  passionate  man, 
do  not  adopt  the  ill-timed  and  absurd  method  of 
arguing  with  him.  Is  he  capable  of  understanding 
you }  He  is  drunk  with  rage,  and  such  intoxication 
is  more  terrible  and  brutifying  than  that  with  wine. 
In  attempting  to  argue  with  him,  you  are  like  the 
woman  who  sermonizes  her  husband  on  his  return 
home  with  his  reason  drowned  in  liquor. 

Rather  take  the  man,  and  induce  him  to  undertake 
an  act  of  charity.  Talk  to  him  about  humanity,  get 
him  to  help  a  fellow-creature,  and  after  that  you  will 
hardly  recognize  him  as  the  same  individual.  That 
act  of  generosity  will  transform  him  ;  will  raise  him 
in  his  own  eyes,  will  give  him  holy  joys,  will  draw 


The  People.  95 

him  toward  God,  will  reconcile  him  to  himself  and  to 
humanity.  God  be  praised  for  having  brought  down 
charity  to  our  earth  !  It  blesses  him  who  receives, 
and  him  who  bestows  it. 

The  people  are  specially  capable  of  appreciating 
disinterestedness,  the  spirit  of  self-devotion.  It  is 
their  element,  and  constitutes  the  largest  share  of 
their  happiness. 

But  latterly  they  have  been  treated  harshly  and 
cruelly.  Wants,  aspirations,  and  desires  have  been 
fostered  in  them  which  can  never  be  gratified,  and 
their  life  has  been  poisoned  thereby. 

Much  has  been  said  about  ameliorating  their  con- 
dition. So  far  well  ;  but  that  amelioration  has  been 
made  to  consist,  in  a  great  measure,  of  material  en- 
joyments, of  more  to  eat  and  drink:  in  fact,  of  feast- 
ing. In  former  times  they  lived  on  rye  bread  and 
were  not  unhappy.  Now  they  have  wheaten  bread, 
and  meat  with  it,  and  even  coffee  ;  yet  they  complain 
and  are  not  content.  A  want  should  not  be  created 
among  the  people,  unless  there  is  a  certainty  of  its 
being  amply  and  always  provided  for. 

The  people,  however,  are  not  always  won  over 
through  their  appetites  ;  they  prefer  being  led  by  the 
nobler  instincts  of  the  human  heart.  They  like  what 
is  grand,  what  is  costly,  and  what  is  obtained  by  great 
sacrifices.  They  have  not,  in  any  degree,  the  bour- 
geois tastes,  the  bourgeois  petty  calculations,  the  botir- 


96  llie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

geois  love  of  little  comforts.  They  are  much  more 
disinterested  than  is  thought.  We  must  not  attempt 
to  gain  them  over  by  their  material  interests  solely  : 
that  would  be  to  ruin  them  and  ourselves  also  ;  but, 
allowing  them  a  due  share  of  such  inducements,  we 
should  rely  mainly  on  their  generosity  and  devoted- 
ness  ;  for  the  people  really  admire  great  actions, 
great  achievements,  and  the  great  characters  who 
bear  sway  over  the  destinies  of  mankind.  They 
entertain  a  species  of  worship  for  them  ;  they  refuse 
them  no  sacrifice.  They  attach  themselves  to  their 
good  or  evil  fortune,  and  with  them  they  are  always 
popular,  always  abiding. 

The  wars  of  the  Revolution  and  of  the  Empire 
have  weighed  heavily  upon  France,  have  levied  the 
tax  of  blood  on  many  families  ;  nevertheless,  the 
name  of  the  Emperor  is  still  surrounded  with  a  magic 
halo.  Moreover,  in  the  east  of  France,  the  marches 
and  counter-marches  of  armies,  with  two  successive 
invasions,  have  devastated  the  country,  overburdened 
the  peasantry  with  imposts,  and  altogether  ruined 
many  of  them.  For  all  that,  enter  any  cottage  there, 
and  you  will  find  the  picture  of  Napoleon  by  the  side 
of  the  image  of  the  Virgin.  Even  on  the  field  of 
battle,  amid  showers  of  shot  and  shell  which  deci- 
mated their  ranks,  the  brave  children  of  the  people 
exclaimed  in  death:  "Vive  l'Empereur!"  Such  are 
the  French  people  at  heart  :  if  there  is  a  tendency  in 


The  People.  97 

them  to  seek  their  own  interests,  there  is  a  tendency 
in  them,  equally  strong,  toward  devotion  and  self- 
sacrifice. 

If,  then,  you  would  give  them  a  right  guidance, 
speak  to  them  of  other  than  petty  ideas  and  material 
enjoyments  :  the  more  so,  because,  if  you  attempt  to 
win  them  over  by  such  low  motives,  they  will  become 
insatiable  ;  their  appetites  will  get  the  mastery  over 
them  and  plunge  them  into  every  kind  of  excess. 
Material  enjoyments,  indeed  !  It  may  be  questioned 
whether  France,  with  all  its  fertility,  and  all  the  re- 
sources of  its  advanced  civilization,  would  suffice,  in 
that  case,  to  furnish  their  first  repast. 

In  order  to  elevate,  to  control,  and  to  satisfy  this 
great  colossus,  the  people,  you  must  be  provided  with 
something  more  than  human,  something  mysterious, 
surpassing  human  views  and  human  reason  ;  other- 
wise, you  will  continue  powerless,  and  will  never 
oring  about  any  moral  improvement  in  the  world. 

What  has  become  of  our  great  men,  who  trusted 
in  man,  who  appealed  to  reason  only,  however  exalted 
that  reason  may  have  been  }  Where  is  now  their 
ascendency  t  Where  the  devotion  which  they  have 
kindled  .''  Where  are  the  masses  who  have  clung  to 
their  good  or  evil  fortune  '^.  They  fall,  and  their  fall 
is  regarded  with  indifference.  Even  in  prosperity,  do 
they  secure  attachment  t  Do  they  acquire  a  perma- 
nent sway  over  the  hearts  of  men  .'*     Not  in  the  least  ; 


98  The  Clergy  and  the  Ptclpit. 

respect,  and  esteem,  and  even  fidelity  are  meted  out 
to  them  according  to  their  characters,  or  according 
to  the  benefits  which  they  are  judged  to  have  con- 
ferred on  us.  "  That  man  is  worth  so  much  :  he  pos- 
sesses so  much  learning,  so  much  talent,  and  may  be 
so  far  profitable  to  me.  He  only  deserves  so  much 
consideration  ;  I  owe  him  nothing  more."  That  is 
his  account  fully  made  up.  A  halo  of  superhuman 
radiance  should  surround  him  who  would  govern  the 
masses — something  divine,  infinite,  presaging  immor- 
tality, heaven,  hell,  eternity  .  .  .  otherwise,  you 
will  continue  to  have  a  degraded,  besotted,  or  savage 
people,  a  people  who,  in  the  country,  are  sunk  in 
materialism,  encroach  on  their  neighbor's  field,  or 
become  the  prey  of  usurers  ; — who,  when  their  asses 
are  diseased,  will  call  in  a  veterinary  surgeon,  but 
will  let  their  wives  suffer  rather  than  pay  a  doctor  to 
attend  them  ;  who  will  weep  over  the  break-down  of 
one  of  their  horses,  but  find  no  tears  for  the  death  of 
an  aged  parent  ; — a  people  who,  in  towns,  find  all 
their  pleasures  and  happiness  in  rioting  and  debauch- 
ery ;  who  are  never  well  ;  who  accuse  others  of  their 
sufferings  ;  and  who,  after  squandering  their  own 
substance,  appeal  to  others,  with  hate  on  their  lips 
and  a  sword  in  their  hands,  saying  : — "  Now  we  will 
share  Vv^ith  you." 

The  best  means  of  reclaiming  them  to  religion  is, 
first,  to  get  possession  of  their  ideas,  their  instincts^ 


The  People.  99 

and  their  good  feelings.  We  must  enter  in  at  their 
door,  and  make  them  go  out  by  ours.  Bind,  rivet 
rehgious  thought  to  their  thought — to  those  senti- 
ments which  cause  their  hearts  to  vibrate  most,  and 
then  elevate  their  souls  ;  wean  them  from  the  pre- 
possessions of  earth,  from  indifference  and  evil  pas- 
sions, and  impart  to  them  the  joys  of  religion  and 
charity. 

Take  advantage  of  any  occurrence,  of  any  great 
event,  of  a  fire,  a  calamity,  an  illness.  ...  A  fire 
reduces  a  poor  family  to  ruin.  Appeal  for  aid,  plac- 
ing yourself  at  the  head  of  the  movement,  and  the 
result  will  surprise  you.  A  laborer  falls  sick,  and  his 
fields  remain  untilled.  Call  his  fellow-laborers  to- 
gether, and  they  will  be  glad,  they  will  forget  their 
own  interest,  to  come  to  the  assistance  of  their  suf- 
fering comrade.  The  people  of  France  are  not 
known  ;  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  and  generosity 
which  is  in  them  is  not  known.  It  may  require 
some  great  occasion  to  develop  it.  Well,  it  is  for 
you  to  bring  it  about. 

For  instance,  you  wish  to  restore  a  church  or  to 
build  a  new  one,  and  require  a  considerable  sum  of 
money  for  the  purpose.  So  much  the  better  ;  out  of 
that  requirement,  you  may  draw  treasures  of  charity 
and  religion. 

Enter  the  pulpit  and  state  your  object  ;  be  like  a 
father  in  the  midst  of  his  family.     Set  the  whole  case 


100  The  Clergy  and  the  Pzdpit. 

before  them,  your  fears,  your  hopes,  your  need,  and 
then  add  : — "  We  rely  upon  you.  You  will  aid  me, 
will  you  not  ?  for  I  shall  take  the  lead,  and  this  will 
be  our  church." 

You  will  then  witness  how  the  old  French  and 
Christian  enthusiasm  may  be  rekindled  in  the  hearts 
of  the  people,  insomuch  that  you  will  be  tempted  to 
ask  : — "  Are  we  really  in  the  nineteenth  century  } 
Are  we  not  still  in  the  middle  ages  T  All  will  co- 
operate :  the  poor  man  will  offer  his  two  arms,  work- 
men will  give  their  day's  labor,  the  agriculturists,  if 
there  be  any,  will  supply  carts  ;  this  one  will  give 
money,  another  wood,  a  third  stone  ;  here  windows, 
and  there  ornaments  will  be  presented.  Who  knows 
but  that  some,  who  have  never  been  accustomed  to 
work,  will  offer  to  aid  in  the  building }  The  Httle 
bourgeois  Voltairien,  who  has  been  known  to  speak 
evil  of  God  and  of  His  curé,  even  he  may  wish  to 
have  a  hand  in  the  erection  of  the  church  ;  so  that 
all  will  thereby  be  brought  nearer  to  God,  nearer  to 
the  truth,  and  nearer  salvation. 

Similar  things  have  occurred  in  every  part  of 
France  ;  though  few  have  any  conception  of  the  ex- 
istence of  such  a  spirit  among  the  people.  We  have 
even  heard  venerable  pastors  exclaim  on  witnessing 
it  : — "  I  have  held  this  parish  for  twenty-iive  years 
without  knowing  of  it.  I  could  not  have  believed 
that  my  parishioners  had  so  much  good  in  them." 


The  People.  lOl 

riaymon,  abbé  of  Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives,*  tells  us 
that  in  the  middle  ages,  kings  and  mighty  men  of  the 
time,  renowned  and  wealthy,  nobles  of  both  sexes, 
stooped  so  low  as  to  lay  hold  of  the  ropes  attached 
to  the  carts  laden  with  provisions  and  materials  for 
building  churches,  and  drag  them  to  the  house  of 
God.  And  what  appeared  most  astonishing  was, 
that,  although  owing  to  its  size  and  heavy  burden,  the 
cart  was  sometimes  drawn  by  upward  of  a  thousand 
persons,  so  profound  was  the  silence  maintained  that 
nobody's  voice  was  heard  above  a  whisper,  and  the 
eye  alone  could  recognize  particular  individuals  in 
that  vast  multitude. 

Similar  spectacles  may  be  witnessed  again.  Scenes 
akin  to  them  occur  frequently  in  the  least  religious 
parts  of  the  country,  and  under  the  most  adverse 
circumstances.  One  such  took  place  during  the 
present  year  at  the  prison  of  St.  Pélagie. 

Two  years  ago,  a  new  parish  was  formed  in  one  of 
the  most  miserable  quarters  of  Paris,  where  the  peo- 
ple were  almost  pagans.  An  appeal  was  made  to 
their  charity,  and  five  hundred  francs,  in  soils,  were 
collected  after  the  sermon.  Moreover,  the  poor 
brought  gifts  of  bread,  and  wished  to  help  in  the 
erection  of  the  church.  Two  poor  women  brought 
the  fire-wood  which  had  been  given  to  them  by  the 

Manuel  de  Charite,  p.  244- 


102  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulfit. 

Bureau  de  Bienfaisance.  Many  brought  their  rings  and 
wedding  presents.  Working  men  ckibbed  together 
to  ornament  the  church  ;  and,  what  is  better  still, 
now  that  it  is  built,  they  go  there  to  pray.  O  peo- 
ple whom  Christ  loved,  how  little  are  ye  known! 
how  little  beloved  !     Ye  would  be  saved.     .     .     . 

To  sum  up:  in  order  to  benefit  the  people,  they 
must  be  cared  for  ;  they  must  be  loved,  must  be 
made  to  love  all  that  is  good  and  great,  and  then  you 
may  lead  them  where  you  will.  Charity  is  popular 
in  France.  Above  all,  succor  the  unfortunate  ;  do  so 
bountifully,  and  you  will  gain  an  ascendency  which 
nothing  will  be  able  to  wrest  from  you.  You  may 
then  defy  the  criticisms  of  wits,  of  the  press,  and  of 
hate,  and  retain  possession  of  the  most  glorious 
sovereignty  in  the  world — that  over  the  hearts  of 
men. 

We  must  insist,  therefore,  on  the  necessity  of 
giving  the  people  a  right  direction  ;  not  the  dry  and 
cold  direction  of  a  metaphysical  argument,  or  of  a 
sword's  point,  but  a  benevolent,  sympathetic,  devoted 
impulse.  .  .  .  We  have  not  busied  ourselves  as  we 
ought  about  the  people,  about  their  moral  ameliora- 
tion. We  have  abandoned  them  to  the  intriguing 
and  ambitious,  and  then  we  complain  of  and  reproach 
them.  Have  they  not  as  much  reason  to  murmur 
against  and  to  upbraid  us  t  The  people  are  what 
they  are  made.     They  are  like  those  unclaimed  lands 


The  People.  1 03 

which  belong  to  the  first  occupant  :  they  are  good  or 
bad  according  as  they  are  well  or  badly  managed  ; 
and,  looking  at  the  manner  in  which  the  people  have 
progressed  for  the  last  ten  or  twelve  years,  it  would 
hardly  seem  that  they  have  been  under  the  direction 
of  honest  men.  What  have  we  done  ?  What  masters 
have  we  given  them  ?  To  what  school  have  we  sent 
them  ?  To  the  school  of  the  tavern,  the  liquor-vaults, 
and  debauchery.  And  who  have  been  the  masters  of 
this  great  French  people  t  Men  over  head  and  ears 
in  debt,  bankrupt  tradesmen,  briefless  barristers,  ped- 
dling tipstaffs — such  have  been  their  educators  ;  and 
yet,  forsooth,  we  have  the  face  to  complain  that  they 
have  been  badly  brought  up  !  What  ought  to  surprise 
those  who  know  the  temptations  and  allurements  to 
which  they  have  been  exposed,  and  the  kind  of  litera- 
ture which  has  been  put  into  their  hands — no  less 
than  eight  millions  of  mischievous  books  every  year 
by  colportage  alone — is,  not  that  the  people  are  so 
bad  as  they  are,  but  that  they  are  no  worse.  Their 
nature  must  be  good  at  bottom,  and  Christianity 
must  still  survive  in  their  hearts,  to  have  withstood 
as  they  have  done.  I  deplore  the  good  which  is  ours 
no  longer  ;  but  I  bless  Providence  for  that  which  still 
subsists. 

We  have,  in  truth,  played  into  the  hands  of  the 
designing  and  malevolent  ;  for  when  we  have  seen 
them  set  on  the  people,  overwhelming  them  under  a 


104  ^/^^  Clergy  and  the  Ptdpit. 

crushing  load  of  errors,  prejudices,  and  antipathies, 
instead  of  taking  part  in  the  contest,  we  have  too 
often  stood  aloof,  and  contented  ourselves  with  the 
vain  deprecation,  uttered  perhaps  with  a  smile  of  dis- 
dain : — "  They  are  being  taught  what  is  unreasonable 
and  will  not  bear  examination  !"  Very  true  ;  but  do 
the  people  examine  ?  When  a  bad  press  has  been 
active,  lavish,  and  amusing  withal — when  it  has  fol- 
lowed them  into  their  workshops,  their  cottages,  in 
fact,  everywhere — how  did  we  act  ?  Why,  we  gave 
them  some  wearisome  treatises  which  were  either 
puerile  or  crammed  full  of  metaphysics.  Good  hea- 
vens !  when  shall  we  be  brought  to  understand  that 
the  people  do  not  reflect,  that  they  look,  listen,  and 
then  go  forward  ?  They  need  some  one  to  guide 
them,  and  if  honest  men  do  not  undertake  the  mis- 
sion, they  will  find  others  who  will.  .  .  . 

To  aid  us  in  affording  that  guidance,  we  should 
invoke  the  cooperation  of  the  higher  classes,  induc- 
ing them  to  exert  themselves  for  the  moral  ameliora- 
tion of  the  people.  Here,  again,  we  have  another  rich 
mine  to  be  worked  which  has  been  greatly  neglected, 
but  whereby  all  may  be  benefited.  The  people  must 
be  morally  reformed  by  the  rich,  and  the  rich  by  the 
people. 

Alas  !  we  often  have  to  deplore  the  little  effect 
which  our  words  produce  on  the  higher  classes. 
But  why  should  you  expect  them  to  understand  us  ? 


The  People.  105 

They  have  no  longer  the  Christian  sense  ;  they  do 
not  wish  to  endure,  their  aim  is  to  enjoy  themselves. 
They  are  devoured  by  sensualism  and  hardened  by 
egotism.  To  remedy  this,  begin  by  dipping  their 
souls  in  the  waters  of  charity  ;  teach  them  the  way 
of  self-sacrifice  and  devotion  ;  enlist  them  in  efforts 
for  the  moral  benefit  of  the  people,  their  children,  and 
the  poor,  and  then  you  will  be  listened  to. 

This  kind  of  charity  is  readily  und  rstood  in  France. 
All  of  us  have  some  sort  of  pretension  of  wishing  to 
do  something  for  the  moral  welfare  of  the  people,  even 
though  we  may  not  be  strictly  consistent  in  our  own 
morality.  But  the  French  mind  is  so  logical  that  it 
cannot  play  such  a  part  for  any  length  of  time  without 
being  bettered  thereby,  were  it  only  for  shame's  sake 
or  out  of  self-respect.  Something  within  will  say  : — 
"  Before  attempting  to  reform  others,  I  shall  do  well 
to  reform  myself"  Then  charity  will  attract  heavenly 
blessings,  and  the  heart  will  open  itself  to  the  inspira- 
tions of  the  Gospel. 

If,  therefore,  you  wish  to  convert  or  reform  a  man, 
set  him  to  reform  one  somewhat  worse  than  himself 
You  will  succeed  much  more  readily  in  that  way  than 
by  argument. 

Take  the  case  of  a  young  man  whose  virtue  is  more 
than  wavering,  and  the  flights  of  whose  imagination 
cause  you  anxiety.  Set  him  at  work  to  reform  others, 
or  to  make  the  efibrt  on  some  notorious  oftender.     He 


io6  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

will  do  his  part  wonderfully  well  ;  his  own  virtue  will 
be  strengthened  and  confirmed  thereby,  and  you  will 
have  given  beneficent  scope  to  an  exuberant  vivacity 
which  the  youth  himself  did  not  know  how  to  utilize. 

It  is  related  that  a  president  of  the  Society  of  Saint 
Vincent  de  Paul  had  reason  to  fear  that  some  of  its 
members  failed  to  discharge  their  Paschal  obligations. 
There  were,  at  the  same  time,  several  poor  families  to 
be  converted,  and  he  committed  the  task  to  the  sus- 
pected defaulters.  The  result  was  that  they  were  the 
first  to  partake  of  the  Holy  Communion.  The  thing 
was  simple  enough  :  before  leading  others  to  the 
confessional,  it  was  necessary  that  they  them'selves 
should  show  them  the  way. 

Every  effort  made  by  the  higher  classes  to  benefit 
those  below  them,  revives  and  sustains  in  the  former 
the  spirit  of  compassion,  of  benevolence,  and  of  self- 
sacrifice — the  best  sentiments  of  the  human  heart. 
It  imparts  life  to  them  ;  for  to  live  is  to  feel,  is  to  love, 
is  to  be  loved,  and  to  cause  love  in  others.  To  have 
sympathy  with  and  fellow-feeling  for  the  poor — that 
is  to  live  ;  but  to  be  wholly  absorbed  in  business 
matters,  in  advancing  one's  own  fortune,  or  in  con- 
cocting intrigues — that  is  not  to  live  ;  rather  it  is  to 
become  brutish  and  to  go  to  ruin.  Nothing  is  more 
immoral  and  contrary  to  nature  than  to  be  always 
taken  up  with  self.  Moreover,  the  course  which  we 
are  recommending  tends  to  draw  the  different  classes 


The  People.  1 07 

closer  together,  to  teach  them  to  know  and  esteem 
each  other,  and  to  assuage  mutual  jealousies  and  an- 
tipathies. The  people  are  fond  of  being  thought  of, 
of  having  interest  manifested  toward  them.  Under 
such  treatment  they  readily  yield,  and  are  glad  to  be 
reconciled.  They  become  even  proud  of  the  tokens 
of  benevolence  bestowed  on  them  by  some  wealthy 
individual  ;  it  is  a  kind  of  safeguard  to  them  against 
evil  passions.  They  say  to  themselves  : — "  We  are 
loved  and  esteemed  :  let  us  by  honest  and  Christian 
conduct  continue  to  deserve  such  consideration." 

Further,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  is  a  ten- 
dency in  the  spirit  of  the  people  to  fancy  themselves 
despised  by  the  rich.  Even  suspicion  on  that  point 
must  be  rendered  impossible,  for  it  may  lead  to  seri- 
ous evils.  The  people  are  implacable  on  the  subject 
of  contempt:  they  are  even  cruel,  and  they  cannot 
pardon  it,  whatever  else  they  may  be  ready  to  over- 
look. They  forgive  those  who  deceive  and  those  who 
rob  and  over-work  them  ;  but  they  do  not  forgive 
those  who  despise  them.  To  be  despised  is  to  them 
the  last  indignity  :  and  perhaps  there  is  some  reason 
in  that  popular  instinct.  It  is  surprising  that  our 
blessed  Lord  complained  but  once  during  His  pas- 
sion. ...  He  suffered.  He  died,  without  a  murmur  ; 
but  when  the  affront  of  contempt  was  inflicted  on 
Him,  He  complained,  and  uttered  that  speech  which 
revealed   a  heart   profoundly   bruised  : — "  If  I   have 


io8  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

spoken  evil,  bear  witness  of  the  evil  ;  but  if  well, 
why  smitest  thou  me  ?" 

But  when  the  people  meet  with  benevolence  and 
cordiality  among  the  rich,  jealousy  and  hate  give 
way,  and  they  may  be  heard  to  say  : — "  If  all  the  rich 
were  of  that  sort,  they  would  be  adored  ;  we  should 
be  ready  to  die  for  them."  Moreover,  they  are  led 
thereby  to  have  more  faith  in  God  and  in  the  reality 
of  a  Providence. 

Some  few  years  ago  there  lived  an  artisan's  wife 
who  was  notorious  for  her  hatred  toward  society, 
toward  the  rich,  and  even  toward  God.  She  hated 
them  with  an  implacable,  a  woman's  hate.  Her  ma- 
lignity was  specially  directed  against  the  rolls  of  silk 
and  bundles  of  stuff- — so  she  designated  the  females 
of  the  upper  classes — and  she  was  known  to  be  in  the 
habit  of  saying  to  her  children  : — "  I  have  brought 
you  up  for  the  democracy  ...  to  humble  the  rich 
and  to  reestablish  equality  ;  and  if  you  do  not  be- 
come democrats,  I  will  disown  you." 

A  priest  commissioned  a  young  marchioness,  as 
virtuous  as  she  was  accomplished,  to  attend  to  this 
poor  creature.  She  began  by  listening  with  kindness 
to  all  her  grievances  and  insults,  and  even  allowed 
herself  to  be  called  a  coquine.  Nevertheless,  by  dint 
of  patience,  she  soon  succeeded  in  calming  her  em- 
bittered soul. 

One  day,  the  marchioness,  who  was  about  to  absent 


The  People.  1 09 

herself  for  several  weeks,  went  to  bid  farewell  to  her 
protégée.  She  took  her  affectionately  by  the  hand, 
and  then,  moved  thereto  spontaneously  by  her  kind 
heart,  and  doubtless  by  the  grace  of  God  also,  cor- 
dially kissed  her,  saying,  as  she  left  : — "  I  shall  soon 
see  you  again." 

The  poor  woman  w^as  stunned  with  amazement, 
and  moved  even  to  tears,  and  forthwith  went  to  the 
priest  ;  but  instead  of  first  saluting  him,  she  began  by 
exclaiming  : — "  Is  it  possible  ?  You  will  not  believe 
me  ;  nevertheless  it  is  true.  She  kissed  me  !  .  .  .  . 
Yes,  the  lady  marchioness  kissed  a  miserable  crea- 
ture like  me.  .  .  .  Ah  !  I  have  frequently  declared 
that  there  was  no  good  God  ;  now  I  say  there  is,  be- 
cause that  lady  is  one  of  His  angels.  I  have  said, 
too,  that  I  would  never  confess  ;  now  you  may  con- 
fess me  as  often  as  you  please."  Since  that  time  she 
has  been  an  exemplary  Christian. 

The  day  after,  the  priest  wrote  as  follows  to  the 
excellent  lady  whom  God  had  made  the  instrument 
of  this  good  work  : — "  You  may,  indeed,  consider 
yourself  happy.  .  .  .  We  priests  are  at  great  pains 
to  preach,  and  do  not  always  succeed  in  converting 
our  hearers  ;  but  you  succeed  with  an  embrace  !" 

Oh,  if  women  only  knew  !  Oh,  if  they  would, 
what  good  they  might  do,  what  evil  they  might  pre- 
vent !  .     .     .     . 

Moreover,  the  existence  of  real  virtue  in  a  woman 


no  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

of  the  world  depends  upon  her  coming  out  of  self, 
and  devoting  herself  assiduously  to  works  of  charity. 
.  .  .  For,  you  may  rest  assured  of  this,  that  without 
self-denial  on  her  part  you  will  never  be  able  to  keep 
her  in  the  right  way.  .  .  .  Take  the  case  of  a  light, 
worldly,  and  gay  woman — and  there  are  many  such  ; 
you  will  never  acquire  any  influence  over  her  except 
through  the  medium  of  charity.  She  will  make  pro- 
mises, but  she  will  take  care  not  to  keep  them  :  you 
can  never  rely  on  her  being  faithful  to  them.  It  will 
be  vain  for  you  to  address  her  in  the  most  conclusive 
speeches,  to  ply  her  with  refined  and  smart  essays 
on  good  breeding — in  vain  that  you  assail  her  foibles 
and  waywardness  with  irony  and  sarcasm — in  vain 
that  you  hold  up  before  her  the  terrors  of  death,  hell, 
and  eternity.  She  will  find  loopholes  by  which  to 
elude  all  that,  and  to  deceive  herself  It  will  not 
prevent  her  in  the  least  from  being  vain  and  exces- 
sively addicted  to  pleasure,  from  baring  her  shoul- 
ders immoderately,  and  from  going  a-begging  for 
idolatrous  incense  in  fashionable  circles.  Before  all, 
she  must  be  made  to  feel,  to  love,  to  be  loved,  to  de- 
vote herself  Charity  filling  her  soul  will  set  fire  to 
the  house,  and  then  every  thing  else  will  be  thrown 
out  of  the  window. 

Strive,  therefore,  to  enlist  all — women,  men,  and 
even  children — in  searching  out  the  distressed,  and 
in   the   moral   improvement  of  the   people.      Make 


The  People.  Ill 

charity  honorable  ;  let  there  be  benevolent  enter- 
prises in  your  locality  in  which  all  can  take  part,  so 
that  there  may  not  be  a  man  or  woman  who  has  not 
his  or  her  poor,  or  who  is  not  engaged  somehow  in 
works  of  charity. 

This  is  the  case  already  in  several  towns  in 
France,  where  a  person  can  scarcely  decline  being 
a  member  of  some  benevolent  association  without 
suffering  a  loss  of  respect.  You  must  overcome  all 
repugnances  on  this  subject,  more  especially  that  of 
amour  pi^opre.  There  are  those  who  will  raise  the 
following  objection,  which  is  by  no  means  rare  : — 
"  How  can  I,  a  man  in  my  position,  a  woman  of  my 
standing,  busy  myself  about  a  set  of  beggarly  people 
like  these  V  To  such  reply  : — "  And  why  not  ?  In 
the  great  cities,  men  the  most  eminent  by  fortune, 
talent,  and  reputation,  do  it.  .  .  .  Even  ladies  who 
are  feted  and  sought  after  in  the  world — the  young 
and  beautiful,  countesses,  marchionesses,  and  prin- 
cesses— even  such  do  not  disdain  the  task.  There 
are  women  in  Paris,  possessing  every  thing  that  heart 
can  desire,  with  a  rental  of  from  two  hundred  thou- 
sand to  three  hundred  thousand  francs,  who  deprive 
themselves  of  legitimate  pleasures  to  occupy  them- 
selves in  making  clothes  for  the  poor,  visiting  the 
most  wretched  hovels,  and  nursing  the  indigent 
sick."  Tell  them  all  this  with  gentleness  and  kind- 
ness ;  make  the  grand  ladies  of  certain  small  towns 


112  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

— such  as  the  wives  of  lawyers,  judges,  advocates, 
merchants,  commission  agents,  and  viscounts  — 
ashamed  of  themselves.  It  will  tend  to  wean  them 
from  that  spirit  of  contempt  and  sensualism,  and 
that  pride  of  shabby  finery,  which  consists  in  think- 
ing one's  self  superior  to  a  rival  because  she  has 
had  the  signal  honor  of  finding  a  better  dressmaker. 
Tell  them  that,  if  they  afiect  the  fashions  and  usages 
of  Paris,  they  would  do  well  to  imitate  the  charity, 
zeal,  and  devotion  which  are  exercised  there. 

To  cite  but  one  instance,  that  of  Donoso  Cortes, 
whom  we  may  now  praise,  for  God  has  just  called 
him  to  Himself  He  disappeared  every  day  from 
home  at  certain  hours.  No  one  knew  where  he 
went  ;  but  it  was  afterward  discovered  that  it  was 
the  time  of  his  visits  to  the  poor.  M.  de  Montalem- 
bert,  who  knew  him  well,  tells  us  that  he  loved  the 
poor  passionately,  but,  withal,  discreetly.  In  fact,  in 
order  to  benefit  the  people,  that  is  how  they  must  be 
loved.  Thereby  alone  can  you  hojDe  to  succeed  in 
restoring  them  to  the  path  of  Gospel  self-denial  and 
self-sacrifice. 

Be  on  your  guard,  moreover,  against  another  ex- 
cuse often  urged  by  certain  of  the  wealthier  classes. 
They  say  : — "  But  the  people  distrust  us  ;  it  is  quite 
enough  for  us  to  attempt  to  lead  them  in  one  way  to 
make  them  determined  to  follow  another." 

The  people  distrust  the  wealthy  classes  !  If  it  be 


The  People.  113 

so,  whose  fault  is  it  ?  Is  it  all  theirs  ?  They  do  not 
know  those  classes  ;  they  seldom  see  them  except  at 
a  distance,  and  from  a  lower  standing  Their  es- 
timate of  them  is  founded  on  slander  ;  how,  then, 
can  they  have  confidence  in  them  ?  .  .  .  Their  confi- 
dence must  be  won,  it  must  be  raised  by  dint  of  be- 
nevolence, charity,  and  self-devotion,  and  the  task  is 
by  no  means  impracticable.  What  !  the  possessors 
of  fortune,  and  talent,  and  a  name,  and  yet  unable  to 
gain  that  confidence  on  the  part  of  the  people  which 
a  schoolmaster,  a  village  lawyer,  a  tipstaff,  a  man 
without  any  intellectual  or  moral  worth,  is  able  to 
secure  !  Of  what  avail,  then,  is  it  to  spend  so  many 
long  years  in  study  ?  What  does  a  good  education 
mean,  and  of  what  use  is  it  ?  Surely  a  very  false 
idea  has  been  formed  of  education.  It  will  soon  be 
made  to  consist  in  knowing  how  to  train  a  horse,  or 
to  turn  a  compliment,  or  in  instilling  vanity  into 
brains  which  need  no  addition  of  that  quality. 
Knowledge,  talent,  position,  and  birth  are  not  bestow- 
ed on  us  for  the  benefit  of  self,  but  for  the  welfare  of 
all  ;  and  it  therefore  behoves  those  who  are  endowed 
with  a  greater  capacity — who  possess  more  know- 
ledge, more  time,  more  influence,  and  more  heart 
than  others — to  share  their  advantages  with  those 
who  have  less,  or  who  have  not  the  leisure  to  acquire 
them. 

That  the  influence  of  which  we  are  speaking  may 


114  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

be  secured  is  proved  by  the  fact  of  its  existence 
throughout  France.  There  are  parts  of  the  country 
where  the  rich  man  is  king  and  father  of  his  commiuie  ; 
which  then  resembles  one  great  family.  There,  the 
tenant  of  the  cottage  exchanges  smiles  with  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  mansion,  and  the  joys  and  sorrows  of 
both  are  warmly  reciprocated.  No  important  step  is 
taken  by  those  who  are  below  without  knowing  first 
what  those  above  them  think  of  it.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances, how  many  evils  are  avoided,  how  many 
quarrels  adjusted,  how  many  animosities  appeased  ! 
Oh,  what  a  glorious  mission  !  How  sad  to  reflect 
that  it  is  not  carried  out  everywhere  !  Nevertheless, 
strive  to  make  it  understood  by  persuasion.  Make 
frequent  appeals  to  the  hearts  of  the  rich,  to  their  love 
of  humanity.  Invoke  them  to  aid  us  in  stopping  the 
misery  at  its  source.  Invoke  their  pity  on  the  masses 
who  toil  and  suffer  beneath  us  ;  their  pity  for  those 
poor  children  whose  fathers  devour  their  bread  ;  pity 
on  behalf  of  the  aged  who  pine  in  cold  and  hunger  ; 
pity  for  the  woman  who  spends  her  Sunday  evenings 
in  tears,  expecting  every  moment  to  encounter  the 
brutality  of  a  husband  who  reels  home  with  his  reason 
and  heart  drowned  in  liquor.  Appeal  even  to  their 
sense  of  shame,  and  tell  them  that,  if  it  is  right  to 
protect  animals,  it  is  still  more  so  to  cherish  human 
beings — that  their  words,  coupled  with  a  good  exam- 
ple, would  be  all-powerful  to  remedy  these  miseries — 


The  People.  115 

that  it  is  the  rich  and  great  of  the  earth  who  sow 
good  or  evil  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  that  if  matters 
do  not  progress  to  their  satisfaction,  they  should 
begin  by  taking  the  blame  to  themselves.  .  .  . 
Your  efforts  will  be  appreciated  by  many.  .  .  You 
will  be  blessed  by  all. 

Such  are  the  French  people  ;  such,  it  appears  to 
us,  is  the  way  to  do  them  good. 

It  is  well  to  study  books  :  it  is  indispensable  ;  but 
it  is  not  enough.  We  must  also  study  the  hearts, 
the  minds,  the  manners  of  those  with  whom  we 
have  to  deal,  otherwise  our  knowledge  will  be  like 
gold  buried  in  the  mountains  of  America.  "The 
good  shepherd  knows  his  sheep,  and  is  known  of 
them."  Is  that  saying  always  realized  amongst  our- 
selves .'* 

There  is  one  particular  point,  however,  on  which 
we  must  be  thoroughly  convinced,  namely,  that  what 
sufficed  in  former  times  will  not  suffice  now.  A  great 
revolution  has  taken  place  among  the  masses.  A 
century  ago,  Christianity  bore  all  away  in  its  strong 
current.  Passions  broke  loose,  no  doubt  ;  but  sooner 
or  later  all  bowed  before  the  Gospel.  Nowadays, 
attempts  are  made  to  justify  human  weaknesses. 
Formerly,  scarcely  any  other  guidance  was  permitted 
but  that  of  the  Christian  pulpit.  Now,  there  are 
platforms  everywhere,  and  within  a  century  we  have 
between  fifteen  and  eighteen  millions  more  who  can 


Ii6  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

lead-T— from  fifteen  to  eighteen  millions  of  men  who 
may  easily  be  led  astray. 

It  is  a  common  saying  that  "  France  is  very  sick." 
Then,  I  beseech  you  not  to  treat  it  as  if  it  were  in 
perfect  health.     Would  you  make  an  end  of  it  1 

"  'Christianity  alone  can  save  us,"  is  another  com- 
mon remark.  Very  true  ;  but  it  must  be  brought  in 
contact  with  the  masses,  and  if  they  do  not  come  to 
us,  we  must  go  to  them.  .  .  .  We  have  been  un- 
successful in  the  ministry  of  the  word  ;  let  us  try  the 
ministry  of  charity. 

Is  it  not  the  aim  of  Christian  eloquence  to  win 
over  the  hearts  of  men,  and  to  dispose  them  toward 
that  which  is  good  }     .     .     .     Avail  yourselves,  then, 

of  your  position  to  carry  out  that  object 

Be  persuaded  that  the  world  is  tired  of  fine  speeches  ; 
it  wants  actions  :  and  of  that  demand,  who  can  com- 
plain .^  ...  To  study  and  to  argue  is  to  act 
well  ;  to  act  and  to  love  is  better  still. 

But  the  most  formidable  argument  against  Chris- 
tianity is  this  : — "  We  admit  that  Christianity  has 
rendered  great  benefits  to  mankind  by  endowing  the 
world  with  admirable  institutions  ;  but  its  sap  is  ex- 
hausted ;  its  ascendency  over  the  masses  is  lost." 
Let  us  prove  that  this  is  false,  not  by  words  merely, 
but  by  deeds  :  by  self-denial  and  self  sacrifice.  Those 
arguments  are  unanswerable. 

But  in  order  to  remedy  the  evils  which  beset  us, 


The  People.  117 

we  must  not  rely  on  the  systems  of  the  learned  or  on 
human  laws.  Good  heavens  !  if  reasonings  and  codes 
of  law  sufficedto  secure  the  peace  and  happiness  of 
a  people,  France  ought  to  be  the  most  prosperous 
country  in  the  world. 

Neither  must  we  rely  upon  the  power  of  the  sword. 
It  is  easily  used  ;  but,  as  De  Maistre  has  said,  to  rely 
on  force  is  like  lying  down  on  the  sail  of  a  windmill 
to  obtain  quiet  sleep.  Then,  again,  the  adoption  of 
force  leads  to  the  most  terrible  excesses.  Those  who 
invoke  it  know  not  what  they  do  :  they  have  never 
witnessed  civil  war  or  barricades,  they  have  never 
seen  French  blood  flow  in  the  streets,  they  have 
never  heard  the  roar  of  cannon  or  the  crash  of  grape- 
shot.  .  .  .  May  God  preserve  us  from  a  recur- 
rence of  such  experience  !  Rather  by  dint  of  per- 
suasion, of  devotion,  and  of  love,  let  us  strive  to  re- 
concile all  hearts,  and  make  France  the  foremost 
people  in  the  world — the  most  Christian  and  divinely 
blessed  nation. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE  ORDER  OF  A  SERMON 

The  Exordium — Divisions — Proofs — Are  there  many  Unbelievers  in 
France  ? — Manner  of  refuting  Objections. 

After  getting  to  know  the  people  and  to  be  known 
of  them,  to  love  them  and  to  be  loved  by  them  in 
return,  the  next  step  is  to  lead  them  to  the  knowledge 
and  love  of  God  and  His  Gospel  by  means  of  oral 
teaching.  ...  In  carrying  this  out,  use  plain 
speech,  and  aim  straight  at  your  object,  which  is  to 
expound  the  truth  proposed  to  be  treated  in  such  a 
way  as  shall  cause  it  to  be  listened  to  with  interest. 
Let  it  be  perceived  at  once  what  the  subject  is,  and 
what  you  intend  to  say.  Sketch  out  your  truth  in 
a  few  sententious  words,  clearly  and  emphatically 
enunciated. 

Let  there  be  none  of  those  vague  and  halting  con- 
siderations which  give  the  speaker  the  air  of  a  man 
who  is  blindfolded,  and  strikes  at  random, — none  of 
those  perplexing  exordiums  wherein  every  conceivable 
fancy  is  brought  to  bear  upon  a  single   idea,  and 


The  Order  of  a  Scruion.  1 1 9 

which  frequently  elicit  the  remark  : — "  What  is  he 
driving  at  ?  what  topic  is  he  going  to  discuss  ?" 

Let  the  subject-matter  be  vigorously  stated  at  the 
outset,  so  that  it  may  rivet  the  minds  and  engage  the 
attention  of  the  audience. 

Generally  speaking,  at  the  commencement  of  a 
discourse,  there  is  profound  silence,  and  all  eyes  are 
fixed  on  the  preacher.  Avail  yourself  of  that  oppor- 
tunity to  arrest  the  imagination  of  your  hearers,  to 
attract  their  attention,  which  you  should  maintain 
throughout,  and  to  withdraw  their  minds  from  the 
things  of  earth  and  from  themsel-ves,  in  order  that 
they  may  live  your  life  for  the  space  of  half-an- 
hour. 

Let  your  onset  be  bold  and  vigorous,  that  your 
audience  may  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  strength  of  your 
position,  your  means  of  defence,  and  the  triumph  of 
the  truth  which  you  are  about  to  handle.  ..."  I 
prefer,"  says  Montaigne,  "those  discourses  which 
level  the  first  charge  against  the  strongest  doubt.  I 
look  for  good  and  solid  reasons  to  come  after." 

This  should  be  followed  by  a  word  of  appeal  to 
the  heart,  to  restrain  its  evil  promptings — something 
genial  and  earnest,  calculated  to  open  out  the  soul, 
and  which,  coupled  with  a  simple  and  modest  de- 
meanor, shall  at  once  bespeak  the  preacher  as  sin- 
cerely attached  to  his  audience.  If  preaching  on 
the  duty  of  charity  toward  the  poor,  you  might  say  : 


120  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

— "  I  come  before  you  on  the  present  occasion  to 
plead  a  cause  which  will  secure  me  against  all  adverse 
criticism,  for  I  know  your  charity.  I  have  not  to 
address  you  to-day  in  language  of  censure  or  rebuke, 
but  in  words  of  encouragement  and  blessing." 

If  a  severe  truth  is  to  be  urged  on  the  congrega- 
tion, it  might  be  introduced  thus  : — "  You  will  per- 
mit me  to  declare  the  truth  unto  you  ;  for  you  love 
the  truth.  The  people  have  never  been  hostile  to  it. 
.  .  .  You  yourselves  would  not  be  satisfied  with 
half  truths  ;  you  desire  something  better.  Therefore 
I  shall  deem  it  my  duty  to  tell  you  the  whole  truth 
with  the  freedom  of  an  apostle,  but  at-  the  same  time, 
with  all  Christian  charity." 

In  a  word,  you  should  exhibit  that  gentle  admixture 
of  power  and  benignity  which  so  well  befits  him  v/ho 
speaks  in  the  name  of  the  Most  High  ;  exciting  the 
love  of  your  hearersas  with  the  influence  of  a  mother. 
Or,  following  therein  the  example  of  Saint  Paul,  be- 
ing like  one  who  serves,  and  not  like  one  who  rules  ; 
condescending  toward  all  ;  striving  to  withdraw  them 
from  the  sorrows  and  passions  of  life,  that  you  may 
lead  them  to  the  truth,  to  virtue,  and  to  heaven.  .  .  . 

On  great  occasions  it  is  usual  to  recite  the  Ave 
Maria  before  the  sermon.  It  is  a  venerable  and 
edifying  practice  which  ought  to  be  followed  ;  but 
forbear  invoking  the  Holy  Spirit  or  the  blessed  Vir- 
gin unless  you  do  it  devoutly  and  sincerely.     It  is 


The  Oj'der  of  a  Sermon.  I2i 

frequently  otherwise  :  one  appeals  to  heaven,  and 
fixes  his  eyes  on  the  earth  :  another,  instead  of  the 
posture  of  prayer,  assumes  the  attitude  of  menace, 
and  looks  very  much  like  a  man  who  demands  your 
money  or  your  life. 

There  should  be  order  in  the  sermon,  and  the  ideas 
should  be  linked  together,  and  should  mutually  sup- 
port each  other.  But  it  should  not  be  laid  down  as 
an  invariable  rule  always  to  follow  those  categori- 
cal divisions  which  necessarily  cut  up  a  truth  into 
two  or  three  parts,  these  to  be  cut  up  again  into  two 
or  three  sections  of  truth,  giving  the  speaker  the  air 
of  a  man  who  is  amusing  himself  with  pulling  a  ma- 
chine to  pieces,  and  then  putting  it  together  again. 
The  Fathers  did  not  ordinarily  follow  that  course. 
Indeed  all  discourses  cannot  be  so  subdivided  ;  for 
not  every  subject  will  bear  it  without  losing  much  of 
its  interest.  .  .  .  Most  sermons  seem  to  be  modelled 
on  the  same  pattern,  so  much  so,  that  the  hearer  is 
disposed  at  the  very  outset  to  remark  : — "  I  have 
heard  that  already  twenty  times  over,  set  forth  just 
in  the  same  way.  What  use  is  there  in  my  listening 
to  it  again  T  This  is  one  drawback,  in  addition  to 
the  consideration  that  it  is  not  prudent  to  take  the 
audience  into  your  confidence  as  to  the  conclusion  to 
which  you  intend  to  lead  them.  ...  Or  another 
listener  will  say  : — "  Alas  !  we  are  still  at  the  second 
subdivision  of  the  first  part.     What  a  long  sermon  it 


122  The  Clergy  and  the  Pitlpit. 

will  be  !"  He  is  seized  with  enimi,  and  then  fare- 
well to  all  feeling  of  interest  in  the  Divine  word,  and 
to  all  hope  of  any  benefit  to  be  derived  from  it. 

It  is  preferable  to  have  a  range  of  ideas  known  to 
yourself  alone,  with  intervening  pauses.  In  that  way 
you  will  carry  the  hearers  along  with  you.  They  will 
listen,  will  be  moved,  will  forget  how  time  passes,  and 
at  the  conclusion  will  not  feel  tired  with  having  fol- 
lowed you.  It  appears  that  the  mania  for  subdivid- 
ing every  thing  is  a  complaint  of  long  standing.  La 
Bruyère  has  passed  his  judgment  upon  it  ;  which, 
apart  from  exaggeration — the  inseparable  companion 
of  criticism — is  not  inapplicable  at  the  present  day. 

Speaking  of  preachers  he  says  : — "  They  hold  three 
things  to  be  of  indispensable  and  geometrical  neces- 
sity, and  to  deserve  your  admiring  attention.  They 
will  prove  a  certain  proposition  in  the  first  part  of 
their  discourse,  another  in  the  second  part,  and  an- 
other in  the  third.  Thus,  you  are  to  be  convinced, 
first,  of  a  certain  truth — that  is  their  first  point  ;  then 
of  a  third  truth — which  is  their  third  point  ;  so  that 
the  first  reflection  is  to  instruct  you  on  one  of  the 
most  fundamental  principles  of  religion  ;  the  second, 
on  another  not  less  so  ;  and  the  third,  on  a  third  and 
last  principle,  the  most  important  of  all,  but  which, 
nevertheless,  must  be  postponed  for  lack  of  time  to 
another  occasion.  Finally,  in  order  to  resume  and 
sum  up  these  divisions,  and  to  form  a  plan.     .     .     . 


The  Order  of  a  Sermon.  123 

*  What!'  you  are  ready  to  exclaim,  'more  yet  !  And 
are  these  merely  the  preliminaries  to  a  discourse  of 
forty-five  minutes'  duration  which  is  still  to  follow  ! 
Why,  the  more  they  attempt  to  digest  and  throw 
light  upon  the  subject,  the  more  they  confuse  me!' 
I  readily  believe  you,  for  it  is  the  most  natural  effect 
of  that  heap  of  ideas,  which  always  turns  upon  one  and 
the  same  thought,  with  which  they  pitilessly  burden 
the  memory  of  their  hearers.  It  would  seem,  to  wit- 
ness their  obstinate  adherence  to  this  practice,  as  if 
the  grace  of  conversion  was  attached  to  these  prepos- 
terous divisions.  I  heartily  wish  that  they  would 
pause  in  their  impetuous  course  to  take  breath,  and 
give  a  little  breathing-time  to  others.  Vain  dis- 
courses !  Words  thrown  away  !  The  time  of  homi- 
lies exists  no  longer;  our  Basils  and  Chrysostoms 
will  fail  to  reclaim  them  ;  people  will  pass  over  into 
other  dioceses  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  their  voice 
and  familiar  instructions  :  for  men  in  general  like  set 
phrases  and  finely  turned  periods,  admire  what  they 
don't  understand,  consider  themselves  edified  there- 
by, and  rest  satisfied  with  deciding  between  the  first 
and  second  points  of  a  discourse,  or  between  the  last 
sermon  and  that  which  preceded  it." 

Division  must  not  be  sought  for  ;  it  must  present 
itself,  and  spring  out  of  the  subject  which  you  are 
about  to  discuss,  or  the  object  which  you  have  in  view. 
For   instance,  you   intend   to   treat  on  deference  to 


124  '^^^^  Clei'gy  and  the  Pidpit. 

man's  opinion.  Establish  these  two  points  : — ist 
That  there  is  no  disgrace  attached  to  the  practice  of 
rehgion  ;  and  2nd.  That  even  if  there  were,  in  the 
estimation  of  some  men,  it  is  our  boimden  duty  to 
brave  it. 

When  a  dogma  of  the  faith  is  to  be  treated  either 
before  the  people  or  others,  never  propound  the  truth 
in  a  hypothetical  form,  which  is  fraught  with  danger. 
Thus,  do  not  say  : — "  Does  the  soul  die  with  the 
body  or  does  it  pass  to  another  life  .^  "  .  .  .  "  Is  Jesus 
Christ  a  mere  man  ;  or  is  he  the  Son  of  God  .?"  Al- 
ways use  the  affirmative  form  : — "  The  soul  does  not 
die  with  the  body  ;  the  soul  will  live  for  ever."  .  .  . 
"  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God  ;  he  is  God  Himself" 
Otherwise,  you  w^ill  seem  to  question  those  verities, 
and  may  give  rise  to  doubts.  Such  was  the  result  in 
the  cause  of  an  artisan,  who  remarked,  after  listening 
to  a  sermon  : — "  For  my  part,  I  was  quite  sure  that 
there  was  another  life  ;  but  I  learn  from  what  the 
preacher  has  stated  to-day,  that  there  is  something 
to  be  said  against  as  well  as  in  favor  of  the  doctrine." 

The  people  like  a  strong,  self-reliant,  and  fearless 
affirmative,  declared  boldly  and  sincerely  in  the  name 
of  God,  which  admits  of  no  buts,  or  ifs,  but  which 
descends  from  on  high,  claiming  the  ready  assent  of 
all  without  distinction. 

Discussion  is  not  the  way  to  teach  Christianity.  It 
must  be  fully  understood  that  the  truth  of  the  Gospel 


The  Order  of  a  Sermon.  125 

is  not  the  conclusion  of  an  argument  ;  that  it  depends 
neither  on  the  talents  of  the  preacher,  not  yet  on  the 
acceptance  of  the  hearer  ;  that  all  such  accidents  do 
not  affect  it  in  any  way.  Christianity  must  be  ex- 
pounded just  as  it  is  ;  but  in  a  noble  and  energetic 
manner,  such  as  shall  cause  it  to  be  readily  under- 
stood and  loved  in  spite  of  all  opposition. 

Nevertheless,  in  condescension  to  human  infirmity, 
you  may  occasionally  justify  God,  as  the  Divine  word 
says,  by  pointing  out  the  fitness  of  a  Catholic  truth  ; 
but  this  must  be  by  the  way  only.  Resume  quickly 
the  high  standing  of  a  man  who  speaks  in  the  name 
of  God — tanquam  potestatem  habens — and  who  is  him- 
self controlled  by  a  truth  which  he  cannot  modify  in 
the  least  degree.  Call  in  frequently  the  aid  of  faith  ; 
prove,  without  stating  that  you  are  going  to  prove  ; 
and,  in  order  the  better  to  combat  men's"  errors,  con- 
front human  authority  with  the  authority  of  God. 

Men  will  raise  such  objections  as  these  : — "But  the 
Gospel  itself  declares.  .  .  .  Those  great  men  who  are 
called  the  Fathers  on  account  of  their  piety  and  genius 
have  said  .  .  .  The  Catholic  Church,  armed  with  its 
infallible  authority,  says  .  .  .  God  Him.self  has  de- 
clared .  .  .  And  as  against  these  witnesses  what  is 
the  word  of  a  mere  man  to  me  1  Moreover,  I  will  not 
submit  ;  I  will  not  bow  down  to  human  authority. 
Am  not  I  a  man  as  well  as  he  }  Am  I  not  endowed 
with  reason  }     He  affirms,  I  deny  ;  he  denies,  I  affirm  ; 


126  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

my  word  is  as  good  as  his,  even  were  he  what  is  called 
a  man  of  genius.  Granted  that  genius  commands 
respect — and  I  respect  it  when  it  yields  to  what  is 
superior  to  it — but,  as  compared  with  the  law  of  God, 
what  is  a  man  of  genius  ?  A  poor  pigmy,  who  labors 
and  drudges  for  forty  years  to  acquire  some  traces  of 
a  superior  mind  ;  who  more  frequently  possesses  the 
amoiLT  propre  of  a  silly  woman  ;  and  who,  while  pre- 
tending to  govern  the  world  from  his  study,  allows 
himself  to  be  led  by  his  own  female  domestic.  For 
my  part,  I  require  something  better  than  that  ;  a 
greater,  a  higher  authority,  and  one  much  more  self- 
reliant." 

You  will  best  restrain  and  meet  these  objections 
by  having  God  always  at  your  side.  Entrench  your- 
self behind  the  Divine  authority  ;  efface  the  man  and 
hold  up  God  ;  impose  silence  on  the  earth  and  let 
Him  speak,  but  with  power  and  loving-kindness. 

Unhappily,  we  have  not  maintained  this  high  stand- 
ing. The  Divine  word  has  been  brought  down  too 
much  to  a  human  level  ;  it  has  been  made  too  much 
to  reflect  man's  image.  The  incessant  attacks  of  the 
enemies  of  religion,  and,  it  may  be,  our  own  scholas- 
tic studies  also,  have  inspired  us  with  a  combative 
and  querulous  humor.  Christianity  is  now  discuss- 
ed, proved,  philosophically  demonstrated.  You  con- 
stantly meet  men  who  are  going  to  prove  this  to  you, 
then  to  prove  that,  and  then  again  to  prove  something 


2Jie  Order  of  a  Sermon.  127 

else.  In  God's  name,  don't  repeat  this  so  often,  but 
do  it  a  little  better. 

These  attempts  to  prove  certain  propositions  gener- 
ally result  in  obscuring  and  confounding  them.  A 
preacher  states  a  truth  ;  you  understand  and  enjoy  it. 
He  demonstrates  it  ;  and  you  understand  it  less,  and 
perchance  begin  to  doubt  it. 

Some  years  ago  especially,  we  were  seized  with  the 
malady  of  dogmatic  conferences.  Every  one  wished  to 
hold  conferences  to  prove  the  reasonableness  of  Christi- 
anity. The  epidemic  has  abated,  but  we  are  not  wholly 
free  from  it.  .  .  .  That  there  should  still  be  one  or  two 
of  these  conference-men  in  certain  large  towns  is  all 
well  enough  ;  yet  even  that  is  to  be  regretted,  for  the 
genus  is  an  offshoot  of  the  misfortune  of  the  age,  and 
is  by  no  means  apostolic.  In  order  to  treat  Chris- 
tianity in  that  way,  extraordinary  talent  is  required, 
together  with  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  dogmas 
of  our  religion,  a  knowledge  equally  profound  of  the 
human  heart,  of  philosophical  systems  and  errors,  and 
a  mathematical  precision  of  language. 

We  may  rest  assured  that  the  control  over  antago- 
nisms and  passions,  so  as  to  preclude  doubt  or  suspi- 
cion from  creeping  into  the  mind,  must  always  pro- 
ceed from  an  elevated  standing,  and  that  men  pos- 
sessing the  necessary  qualifications,  or  even  some  of 
them  in  a  high  degree,  are  extremely  rare. 

This   consideration   has    been    sadly   overlooked. 


128  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

Very  soon  we  shall  have  every  one  attempting  to 
philosophize  Christianity.  There  are  scarcely  any, 
down  to  the  youngest  priest,  who  does  not  take  up 
the  most  difficult  dogmas,  and  who  does  not  seek  to 
do  battle  with  those  who  are  styled  "  unbelievers" — 
that  is  the  current  word  nowadays,  because,  as  it 
would  seem,  the  old  term  (infidel)  has  been  worn  out 
by  long  usage,  and,  therefore,  it  has  been  thought 
necessary  to  create  a  new  one. 

All  this  is  very  deplorable.  Until  quite  lately  there 
was  hardly  a  discourse,  addressed  even  to  the  people 
exclusively,  which  did  not  contain  passages  intended 
for  unbelievers,  or  tirades  against  unbelievers,  or 
apostrophes  to  unbelievers.  The  believers  who  were 
present  were  neglected  for  the  sake  of  the  unbeliev- 
ers who  were  absent. 

It  is  not  rare,  indeed,  to  meet  with  men  who  call 
themselves  unbelievers,  who  assert  it,  and  who  write 
themselves  such;  but  will  you  find  men  who  are 
seriously  unbelievers,  and  who  do  not  falter  in  their 
negations }  A  pious  priest,  who  was  frequently  called 
upon  to  attend  the  sick  in  the  higher  classes  of  society 
in  Paris,  was  once  asked  whether  he  often  met  with 
men  who  had  ceased  to  believe.  He  replied,  good- 
naturedly  : — "  Pray,  don't  allude  to  the  subject.  .  .  . 
Though  I  have  been  long  accustomed  to  minister  to 
great  sinners,  I  have  never  yet  had  the  good  fortune 
to  lay  my  hand  on  one  who  was  even  a  little  unbe 


The  Order  of  a  Sermon.  129 

lieving.  As  regards  the  faith,  men  in  general  are 
better  than  their  words  or  their  writing  either." 

As  has  been  well  remarked  : — "  The  man  who,  even 
in  all  sincerity,  says  :  *  I  don't  believe,'  often  deceives 
himself.  There  is  in  the  depths  of  his  heart  a  root 
of  faith  which  never  dies." 

Real  unbelief  cannot  prevail  in  France.  There 
is  too  much  good  sense,  too  much  rectitude  in  the 
French  mind,  and  too  much  moral  beauty  in  the  Gos- 
pel, to  render  absolute  unbelief  possible. 

These  pretensions  to  unbelief  are  generally  based 
on  a  little  ignorance  combined  with  a  large  amount 
of  feeble-mindedness  ;  so  that  when  one  tells  yon 
that  he  does  not,  that  he  cannot  believe,  you  should 
understand  him  to  mean  that  he  is  weak  and  timid. 
Let  us  be  on  our  guard  against  taking  such  men  at 
their  word,  for  we  should  thereby  show  how  little 
knowledge  we  possess  of  the  human  heart.  A  priest 
who  was  called  in  to  attend  a  person  who  had  spoken 
and  written  much  against  religion,  put  this  question 
to  him  : — "  When  you  wrote  were  you  quite  sure  of 
your  own  unbelief?"  The  other  replied, — "Alas! 
Monsieur  l'Abbé.  .  .  ."  in  a  deprecating  tone,  which 
seemed  clearly  to  imply  : — "  How  young  you  are,  and 
how  little  you  know  of  the  human  heart  !" 

No  ;  the  question  between  the  world  and  ourselves 
is  not  whether  the  miracles  and  mysteries  of  Chris- 
tianity are  believed,  but  whether  the  morality  of  the 


130  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

Gospel  is  jDractised.  That  is  the  real  question  at 
issue.  So  true  is  this,  that  scholars  and  honest  men 
will  not  hesitate  to  say  frankly  : — "  The  matter  is  not 
one  of  argument  ;  only  retrench  from  your  religion 
several  small  commandments  of  God  and  the  Church, 
which  we  need  not  specify,  and  then  we  will  be  on 
your  side." 

That  is  the  secret  of  unbelief  It  is  not  faith  that 
is  wanting,  but  the  courage  to  do  what  is  right. 

How,  then,  are  we  to  get  rid  of  those  preachers 
who  are  always  taken  up  with  unbelievers  t  How 
delivered  from  those  endless  sermons  addressed  to 
unbelievers  }  They  do  us  much  harm  and  very  little 
good.  The  whole  thing,  besides  being  ill-judged,  is  a 
mistake.  By  incessantly  speaking  to  men  about  un- 
belief, we  may  end  in  making  them  unbelievers  ;  just 
as  we  may  make  a  dolt  of  a  man  by  dint  of  telling 
him  that  he  has  no  sense.  Besides,  what  a  blow  it  is 
to  Christianity  to  give  the  people  to  understand  that 
a  notable  portion  of  a  great  nation  has  seriously  con- 
tested its  Divine  origin  !  Is  not  this  to  suggest  the 
temptation  that  they  too  should  become  unbelievers, 
since,  by  so  doing,  they  would  be  in  so  numerous  and 
goodly  a  company  t  Instead  of  such  a  course,  begin 
by  telling  your  audience — but  in  the  accents  of  pro- 
found conviction — that  there  is  not  one  unbeliever 
among  them  ;  that  they  all  have  faith  ;  that  they  be- 
lieve as  you  do  ;  that  they  are  better  than  they  judge 


The  Order  of  a  Sermon.  131 

themselves  to  be  ;  that  not  every  one  who  wishes  it 
can  become  an  unbeUever  ;  that  Jesus  Christ  is  too 
eminent  in  history  and  in  the  world  to  be  regarded, 
in  earnest,  as  a  mere  man  :  .  .  .  tell  them  this,  and 
you  will  do  them  good,  and,  besides,  you  will  be  tell- 
ing the  truth. 

They  all  believe,  but  their  faith  is  imperfect,  wound- 
ed. So  true  is  this,  that  Voltaire  himself,  as  all  the 
world  knows,  could  not  rid  himself  entirely  of  his 
faith,  all  Voltaire  that  he  was.  .  .  .  What!  Voltaire, 
with  all  his  wit,  and,  if  you  will,  his  genius, — Voltaire, 
with  his  demon  pride,  his  Satanic  hatred  of  Christ,  his 
half  century  of  blasphemies, — Voltaire,  the  head  of 
the  most  redoubtable  cohort  of  enemies  that  Chris- 
tianity ever  had, — even  he  could  not  wholly  divest 
himself  of  his  belief  ;  and  yet  it  is  pretended  that  our 
pigmies  of  the  nineteenth  century,  with  their  limited 
knowledge  and  petty  malice,  are  able  to  stifle  their 
faith  when  that  giant  of  impiety  was  unable  to  stran- 
gle his  in  his  eagle's  clutch  !  .  .  . 

Only  a  little  reflection  is  needed  to  convince  our- 
selves on  this  point.  For  what  is  unbelief }  It  is  the 
conviction  that  Christianity  is  false.  Now,  how  can 
such  a  conviction  be  arrived  at  against  eighteen  cen- 
turies of  genius  and  virtue,  against  the  authority  of 
the  Gospel,  against  Christ  Himself.''  How  can  any 
man  reasonably  attain  the  position  of  being  able  to 
confront  those  eminent  men  and  facts,  and  say  : — "  I 


132  The  Clergy  and  tJie  Pulpit. 

am  quite  sure  that  you  have  deceived  the  world  .  .  . 
you  have  Hed  ?"  It  is  impossible.  It  may  be  said 
and  written  in  a  moment  of  passion  ;  but  such  assur- 
ance is  not,  cannot  be  attained. 

We  shall,  therefore,  be  acting  truly  as  well  as 
wisely  in  not  descanting  so  much  about  unbelievers. 
For,  after  all,  of  what  use  is  it  t  For  the  most  part, 
these  alleged  unbelievers  are  not  present  to  listen  to 
you.  Neither  is  that  the  worst  feature  in  the  case 
These  kinds  of  sermons  are  by  no  means  calculated 
to  convert  them.  Generally  speaking,  they  show  too 
little  regard  for  the  amour  propre  of  such  characters  ; 
who,  as  is  well  known,  do  not  pique  themselves  on 
their  humility.  If  we  would  benefit  them  we  must 
pass  quickly  from  the  mind  to  the  heart  :  that  is 
their  weak  point.  We  must  not  keep  ourselves  so 
much  on  the  defensive,  but  carry  the  war  into  the 
enemy's  country.  Our  tactics  should  be  to  do  good 
abundantly  to  all  men  that  we  may  save  all,  and  then 
there  will  be  no  doubt  about  their  beheving  in  the 
divinity  of  Christianity. 

All  the  parts  of  a  sermon  need  not  be  equally 
good  and  powerful.  Two  or  three  more  elaborate 
and  striking  passages  will  suffice  to  ensure  success  ; 
but  those  passages  should  be  such  as  effectually  to 
overthrow  prejudices  and  errors,  and  should  be  con- 
clusive against  all  gainsayers. 

There  should  also  be  intervals  to  break  monotony 


The  Order  of  a  Sermon.  133 

— that  stumbling-block  of  many  sermons  ;  to  give 
the  mind  rest  ;  to  allow  time  for  the  hearts  of  the 
audience  to  be  penetrated  by  what  has  been  said  ;  to 
introduce  familiar  topics  which  do  the  soul  so  much 
good  ;  to  soften  the  asperities  of  any  great  emotion  ; 
to  bind  up  the  wounded  ;  in  a  word,  intervals  for  the 
preacher  to  become  the  father  after  having  represent- 
ed the  King,  to  attract  the  hearts  after  having  gained 
the  minds  of  his  hearers. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  aim  at  making  every  part  of  a 
sermon  equally  powerful  and  equally  prominent.  It 
is  an  attempt  against  Nature.  Moreover,  we  should 
not  aspire  to  adduce  every  available  proof  in  support 
of  a  particular  truth.  One  or  two  will  suffice,  and 
the  strongest  is  not  always  the  most  convincing  to 
your  audience.  Select  those  likely  to  produce  the 
greatest  impression,  and  forbear  when  that  end  is  at- 
tained. The  victory  is  yours,  retain  it,  and  do  not 
expose  yourself  to  a  reverse. 

There  are  men  who  do  not  think  they  have  proved 
a  thing  until  they  have  brought  together,  pell-mell, 
all  the  known  proofs  in  the  world.  The  consequence 
is  that,  after  listening  to  one  of  their  sermons,  the 
question  discussed  appears  more  confused  to  you 
than  ever. 

As  regards  objections  to  be  refuted,  you  should 
never  adduce  any  but  such  as  are  current  in  the  lo- 
cality where  you  are  speaking  ;  and  it  is  dangerous 


134  ^^^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

to  give  them  a  too  salient  form,  for  you  may  thereby 
wound  the  faith  of  your  audience.  But  the  objection 
once  stated,  refute  it  at  once  in  a  few  sharp  and  de- 
cisive words.  Let  your  reply  be  in  language  as 
prompt,  striking,  and  decisive  as  that  of  the  objec- 
tion. Avoid  all  circumlocution  and  hesitation  in 
meeting  it.  Show  it  no  pity,  but  let  it  expire  forth- 
with in  the  presence  of  your  audience.  Let  every 
word  tell  like  the  cut  or  thrust  of  a  sword,  or,  at 
least,  like  the  stroke  of  a  mace  which  shall  effectual- 
ly silence  the  objection.  You  may  then  justify, 
easily,  the  blows  which  you  have  dealt  :  but  strike 
first  and  explain  afterward  ;  otherwise,  never  at- 
tempt to  place  an  objection  before  the  people.  If,  as 
is  too  often  done,  you  begin  by  saying  : — "  Before  re- 
futing this  objection,  two  principles  must  first  be  laid 
down,"  or,  "three  reflections  must  be  made,"  the 
minds  of  your  hearers  will  go  a  wool-gathering  ;  they 
will  not  listen  to  your  reflections  ;  they  will  retain 
nothing  of  your  discourse  beyond  the  objection  ;  you 
will  have  lost  your  time,  and  may  have  done  harm 
into  the  bargain. 

Li  sermons  to  the  people,  the  peroration  should  be 
energetic,  captivating,  fervent  ;  not  a  fervor  of  the 
head  or  throat,  but  of  the  soul,  accompanying  some- 
thing to  enlighten  the  minds  of  the  hearers,  to  gain 
the  assent  of  their  hearts,  to  subdue  their  passions, 
and  to  electrify  their  spirits. 


The  Order  of  a  Sermon.  135 

Let  us  be  on  our  guard  against  those  vapid  pero- 
rations which  are  nothing  more  than  the  ending  of  a 
discourse  which  we  are  at  a  loss  how  otherwise  to 
wind  up.  The  audience  must  not  be  dismissed  with 
a  wrong  impression  ;  therefore  be  more  affectionate 
at  the  conclusion,  the  more  severe  the  truths  have 
been  which  you  have  enunciated.  In  a  word,  the 
peroration  should  be  sympathetic  and  vibrating.  It 
should  comprise  all  the  power,  all  the  marrow,  and 
all  the  energy  of  the  sermon.  It  should  contain 
some  of  those  keen  thoughts,  some  of  those  prover- 
bial phrases,  which  recur  to  the  mind  again  and 
again  like  the  strains  of  a  familiar  song  which  we 
sing  involuntarily, — or  a  single  thought,  which  when 
once  entertained  leads  one  to  say  : — "  Were  I  to  live 
a  hundred  years,  I  shall  never  forget  it." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE   SERMON    SHOULD   BE   POPULAR. 

What  constitutes  true  Popularity  ? — Popularity  in  Words,  in  Thought, 
in  Sentiment — One  of  the  most  popular  Sentiments  in  France  is 
Patriotism — Means  to  utilize  that  sentiment — The  Relationship 
between  Popularity  and  Genius  —  Demosthenes  —  Saint  John 
Chrysostom — Daniel  O'Connell. 

The  language  of  the  Christian  orator  whose  object 
is  to  make  rehgion  known  and  loved,  should  possess 
the  following  characteristics  : — 

It  should  be,  ist,  popular  ;  2dly,  plain  ;  3dly,  short. 

All  eloquence  to  be  effectual  must  be  popular.  An 
orator  is  essentially  the  man  for  all,  and  is  specially 
made  for  the  people.  The  people  are  the  best  judges 
of  true  eloquence,  and  are  themselves  the  best  soil  to 
be  cultivated  thereby.  Cicero  says  that  "  the  most 
infallible  token  of  an  orator  is  to  be  esteemed  as  such 
in  the  opinion  of  the  people."  He  was  so  persuaded 
of  this  that  he  remarks  in  another  place  : — "  I  wish 
my  eloquence  to  be  rehshed  by  the  people." 

This  is  still  more  true  as  regards  the  Christian 
orator.  He  appeals  to  all  :  to  the  little,  to  the  poor 
and  the  ignorant  as  well  as  to  the  great,  the  wealthy, 


The  Sejinon  should  be  Poptda}'.  137 

and  the  learned,  and  his  speech  should  be  understood 
and  enjoyed  by  all.  He  is  not  free  to  deprive  any 
one  of  the  truth.  All  men  are  people  before  the 
Gospel,  and  that  Gospel  speaks  in  unison  with  the 
souls  of  all.  It  stoops  to  raise,  to  comfort,  and  to 
enlighten  all.  Hence  the  truly  popular  preacher  pro- 
claims himself  at  the  outset  as  no  ordinary  orator, 
but  one  about  to  be  powerful,  and  to  rise  into  a  giant, 
before  whom  even  the  most  learned  will  be  obliged  to 
bow,  because  his  soul  is  linked  with  the  Divine  word, 
and  with  the  hearts  of  the  people. 

This  popularity  of  Christian  discourses  has  become 
rare,  more  especially  in  our  towns.  Instead  of  being 
satisfied  with  the  life,  the  sap  of  that  Gospel  which 
has  moved  the  world,  preachers  have  deemed  them- 
selves obliged  to  call  in  the  aid  of  philosophy,  meta- 
physics, and  distorted  phraseology  and  rhetoric.  The 
exception  has  been  taken  for  the  rule.  The  Divine 
word  has  been  bound,  imprisoned  in  a  terminology, 
which  many  do  not  understand.  The  preacher  speaks, 
but  the  man  remains  impassible  and  cold.  Painful 
reflection  !  The  word  of  God  passes  by  and  says 
nothing  to  the  mind,  the  soul,  or  even  to  the  ears  of 
the  audience. 

But  I  hasten  to  observe  that  the  popularity  of  a 
sermon  does  not  consist  in  using  common,  trivial,  or 
vulgar  language.  The  people  do  not  like  such  a  style, 
and  regard  it  as  derogatory  to  their  intelligence  and 


138  The  Clcf'gy  and  the  Pidpit. 

dignity.  They  have  much  more  tact  than  is  gener- 
ally supposed.  They  know  perfectly  well  what  befits 
each,  and  have  an  exquisite  sense  of  propriety.  The 
people  wish  their  preacher  to  speak  better  than  they 
do,  and  appreciate  dignified  language.  Hence,  when- 
ever they  have  to  name  any  thing  mean  before  you, 
they  are  careful  to  preface  it  with  the  proverbial  apol- 
ogy :  "  saving  your  presence."  In  fine,  the  object  of 
preaching  being  to  elevate  the  people,  the  language 
adopted  should  be  superior  to  theirs.  The  style  of 
speaking  has  an  important  bearing  on  the  morals  of 
life. 

We  may,  however,  occasionally  borrow  some  of 
their  most  striking  and  picturesque,  and  even  some 
of  their  quaint  expressions,  put  them  into  a  good 
framing,  and  make  them  the  starting-point  for  a 
felicitous  sally  or  thought.  They  have  then  a  power- 
ful effect.  The  people  perceive  thereby  that  you  are 
acquainted  with  them,  that  you  must  have  visited 
among  them,  that  you  know  their  life,  their  toil,  their 
sorrows,  and  even  their  foibles,  and  they  will  open 
their  hearts  to  you  at  once.  They  feel  themselves  to 
be  on  familiar  ground,  where  they  find,  as  it  were,  an 
old  friend.  There  is  a  strange  instinct  among  the 
people  which  leads  them  to  reason  thus  :■ — "  That 
man  knows  us,  therefore  he  loves  us  ;"  whereupon 
they  readily  give  you  their  confidence. 

Then,  again,  it  is  not  very  difficult  to  maintain  a 


The  Sermon  should  be  Popular.  139 

style  of  speaking  at  once  dignified  and  popular. 
Look  at  the  lady  of  fashion  dealing  with  the  petty 
tradesman,  or  even  with  a  fish-woman — a  character 
by  no  means  celebrated  for  choice  or  polite  expres- 
sions. The  price  of  the  article  treated  for  is  dis- 
cussed, the  bargain  is  struck,  both  parties  come  to  a 
satisfactory  understanding,  and  the  language  of  the 
woman  of  the  world  has  been  sober  throughout,  and 
perfectly  becoming.     .     .     . 

But  popular  speech  consists  not  so  much  in  the 
expressions  used  as  in  the  thoughts  and  sentiments 
conveyed  thereby.  We  have  already  remarked  that 
the  people  have  good  sense,  ready  wit,  and  above  all 
a  heart.  .  .  .  We  must  lay  hold  of  those  points 
in  them  to  effect  an  entry  into  their  minds  as  well  as 
their  hearts,  thereby  preparing  the  way  for  religion  to 
follow. 

The  people  have  a  certain  aggregate  of  ideas  and 
thoughts,  and  their  own  way  of  apprehending  and 
appreciating  things.  All  this  should  be  studied,  for 
it  constitutes  the  best  holdfast  of  humanity.  We 
should  make  ourselves  of  the  people,  as  it  were,  in 
their  mode  of  thought,  joining  thereto  superior  know- 
ledge ;  study  those  ideas  which  they  do  not  adequately 
estimate,  put  them  into  expressive  and  proverbial 
language  such  as  they  relish,  and  then  engraft  reli- 
gious thought  into  their  thoughts  in  order  to  eluci- 
date and  elevate  them. 


140  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

But  the  people  possess,  above  all,  an  inexpressible 
richness  of  sentiment,  together  with  admirable  in- 
stincts. These  must  be  laid  hold  of,  cultivated,  and 
profoundly  stirred,  and  then  Christianity  should  be 
brought  in  and  fused,  so  to  speak,  with  those  good 
instincts  and  noble  sentiments..  Dive  down  to  the 
bottom  of  the  souls  of  the  people  .  .  .  touch 
the  best  chords  of  their  hearts  ...  be  inspired 
with  their  aspirations  ...  be  animated  with  their 
passions  ;  I  had  almost  said  be  agitated  with  their 
anger.  Possess  yourself  of  what  is  best  in  them,  and 
return  it  to  them  in  vivid  expressions  and  glowing 
effusions  of  the  soul,  that  they  may  think,  feel,  will, 
as  you  do  ;  that  their  thought  may  seem  to  have 
anticipated  yours,  while,  at  the  same  time,  you  exer- 
cise sway  over  them.  Then  your  sermon  will  be  the 
outward  expression  of  the  best  sentiments  of  the  hu- 
man heart,  ennobled  by  the  Divine  word.  Such,  we 
take  it,  is  true  popularity  ;  such  also  is  the  real 
power  of  Christian  eloquence. 

In  this  way  you  may  lead  men  onward  to  the 
highest  speculations,  and  raise  them  even  to  hero- 
ism. You  may  then  use  the  language  of  scholars, 
provided  that  you  continue  to  be  of  the  people  in 
heart. 

One  noble  and  powerful  sentiment  which  should 
be  cultivated — a  sentiment  which  may  be  made  to 
call   forth   the   sublimest   aspirations  and  the   most 


The  Sermon  should  be  Popiilar.  141 

heroic  transports — is  patriotism.  The  people  love 
France,  they  love  the  glory  of  France,  they  love  all 
that  concerns  France.  If,  then,  you  wish  to  interest 
them,  to  induce  them  to  listen  to  you,  to  stir  them 
up,  to  enlarge  their  hearts,  speak  well  of  France  to 
them  ;  dilate  to  them  of  their  earthly  country,  and 
then  you  will  find  it  much  easier  to  raise  them  to 
that  country  which  is  in  heaven. 

An  admirable  example  of  this  was  afforded  by 
Monseigneur  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  during  his 
visitations,  and  he  produced  one  of  those  magic  ef- 
fects which  seem  hardly  to  belong  to  our  times. 

The  venerable  prelate  visited  a  school  of  adults, 
consisting  of  about  four  hundred  youths,  all  in  the 
flower  of  their  age  and  the  heyday  of  their  passions. 
On  taking  his  seat,  the  whole  assembly  intoned  a  har- 
monious and  popular  hymn,  full  of  patriotic  senti- 
ments. The  archbishop  made  this  the  starting-point 
of  his  lecture,  and  soon  there  was  such  a  thunder  of 
applause  that  the  floor  of  the  hall  shook,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  ears  of  the  spectators.  The  speaker  him- 
self must  have  been  stunned,  but  he  resumed  with 
animation  : — 

"  Do  you  know,  my  children,  why  this  magic  word 
^  country  '  electrifies  your  hearts  t  It  is  because  one's 
native  country  is  the  sacred  home  of  man,  of  his 
duties  and  his  privileges.  It  is  his  life,  his  cradle,  his 
tomb  ;   it  is  every  thing  to  him  after  heaven,  from 


142  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

whence  he  comes,  and  whither  he  must  return  ;  and 
which  is  on  that  account  the  glorious  country,  the 
kingdom  of  all  righteousness,  the  fruition  of  all  privi- 
leges, the  communion  of  all  souls,  of  all  happiness,  of 
all  good.  Chaunt,  therefore,  your  earthly  country, 
but  be  not  forgetful  of  that  country  which  is  beyond 
the  skies. 

"Yes,  sing  it,  and  love  it  well.  It  has  need  of  all 
your  filial  love  and  useful  prowess.  It  has  bled  much  ; 
it  still  suffers.  Respect  it,  comfort  it,  for  it  is  your 
mother.  You  are  indebted  to  it  for  birth,  instruction, 
employment,  and  a  livelihood.  It  behoves  you  to 
show  yourselves  worthy  of  these  benefits,  to  merit 
them,  to  win  them,  and  to  preserve  them.  Young 
citizens,  be  men  !     Young  men,  be  Christians  ! 

"  I  recognize  in  your  ardor  the  descendants  of  those 
warriors  who,  on  the  approach  of  the  enemy,  gained 
the  frontier  at  a  bound,  and  as  one  man.  They  were 
workmen  when  they  left  ;  workmen  less  fortunate  and 
educated  than  you  are.  They  returned,  as  you  know, 
conquering  heroes,  or  they  fell  covered  with  glory. 

"  Were  the  country  again  menaced,  and  an  appeal 
made  to  your  courage,  I  should  have  no  misgivings  ; 
for,  hardly  should  I  have  blessed  the  tricolored 
standard  over  your  heads,  than  it  would  take  the 
eagle's  flight  and  echo  a  reply  by  a  brilliant  victory, 
either  from  the  summits  of  the  Alps  or  from  the 
borders  of  the  Rhine." 


The  Sermon  should  be  Po^pular.  143 

We  must  renounce  all  attempt  to  describe  the  sen- 
sation which  this  discourse  elicited,  and  which  it  at 
the  same  time  restrained,  that  the  speaker  might  not 
be  interrupted.  It  broke  out  at  last  ;  the  hurricane 
burst  through  all  bounds,  and  then  suddenly  subsid- 
ed as  if  in  remorse  at  its  own  violence.  This  intelli- 
gent silence  seeming  to  say  :  "  Go  on,"  the  arch- 
bishop proceeded  : — 

"  I  doubt  not  that  you  would  easily  triumph  over 
the  enemy  :  but  would  you  overcome  yourselves  also  "i 
would  you  subdue  your  passions,  calm  your  impe- 
tuosity, be  Christians,  be  virtuous  .''"  * 

"  Yes,  yes  !"  exclaimed  these  noble  youths.  Their 
hearts  were  touched,  and  they  were  ready  for  any 
sacrifice.  The  prelate  then  rapidly  set  forth  the 
virtues  which  they  ought  to  practise,  the  temptations 
which  they  should  avoid,  the  vices  they  should  sub- 
due, and  the  passions  wliich  they  should  curb. 
Thereupon,  the  explosion  of  enthusiasm  was  redou- 
bled, showing  that  these  brave  youths  were  not  irre- 
trievably wedded  to  their  errors  and  foibles  ;  for 
though  in  reality  undergoing  a  partial  defeat,  they 
applauded  as  if  they  had  been  the  conquerors. 

We  repeat  it  :  one  of  the  best  means  to  popularize 
religion  among  the  people  is  to  speak  always  in  fa- 
vorable terms  of  their  native  country. 

*   Visites  Pastorales  y  p,  136, 


144  ^^^^  Clergy  and  the  Ptilpit. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  deplorable  excesses  in 
the  history  of  the  last  seventy  years  have  wounded 
the  hearts  of  the  clergy,  and  imparted  a  savor  of 
bitterness  and  sarcasm  to  our  language  respecting 
France.  But  it  is  wrong  :  one  should  always  love 
one's  country  and  one's  times, .  though  it  may  be  a 
duty  to  combat  their  prejudices  and  their  errors. 
On  this  subject  I  commend  the  words  of  one  of  our 
own  statesmen,  endeared  both  to  religion  and  to  his 
country  : — * 

"  Do  not  misunderstand  what  I  am  about  to  say  ; 
do  not  imagine  that  I  wish  to  unduly  criticise  the  era 
in  which  we  live.  No  ;  my  country  and  my  contempo- 
raries will  find  in  me  rather  an  impassioned  advocate 
then  a  prejudiced  detractor.  I  love  my  country  and 
my  time,  for  I  cannot  separate  the  one  from  the  other. 
I  believe  that  one  cannot  be  loved  without  the  other. 
He  who  does  not  acquiesce  in  the  age  in  which  he 
lives,  its  responsibilities  and  its  dangers,  does  not 
wholly  love  his  country  :  does  not  love  his  country 
except  in  times  which  either  exist  no  longer,  or  in 
those  which  have  not  yet  come.  To  do  this,  is  to 
discourage,  to  lessen  the  power  which  we  should 
hold  at  its  service.  The  age  in  which  each  of  us  lives 
is  simply  the  frame  wherein  God  sets  our  duties  ;  the 
career  which  He   opens  to   and   imposes  upon   our 

*  M.  de  Falloux. 


riie  Sermon  should  be  Popular.  145 

faculties.     To  study  one's  age  is  to  search  out  what 
God  desires  and  demands  of  us." 

Then,  again,  we  are  bound  to  be  just.     If  France 
has  done  wrong,  how  much  good  has  she  not  done  ; 
how  much   is  she   not  still  doing  every  day  Î     The 
words  Gesta  Dei  per  Francos  have  not  ceased  to  be 
true  as  regards  ourselves.     Is  not  the  blessed  insti- 
tution of  the  Propagation  of  the  Faith  the  work  of 
France  }     Is   not,  also,  the  Archiconfrérie  for  the  re- 
turn of  sinners  to  the  paternal  home,  the  work  of 
France  .''     Is  not  the  society  of  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul 
likewise  the  work  of  France  .'*     That  society  numbers 
eight  hundred  confraternities  throughout  the  world, 
and  of  these,  five  hundred   are  claimed   by  France. 
And  wherever  any  good  work  is  to  be  wrought  for 
the  Church,  is  it  not  accomplished  by  the  words,  the 
money,  the  prayers,  and  even  by  the  sword  of  France } 
Surely,  the  citizen  of  such  a  country,  the  child  of  such 
a  fatherland,  has  a  right  to  speak  well  of  his  mother  ; 
more  especially  w^hen  the  object  is  to  lead  souls  to 
virtue.     Reawaken,  then,  the   old  French  and  Chris- 
tian  enthusiasm,  filling  all   hearts  with   the   sacred 
emotions  of  earthly  patriotism,  and   with  holy  love 
for  that  better  home  which  is  eternal  in  the  heavens. 
Such  is  true  popularity  ;  such  the  power  of  speech. 
One  is  strong  when  he  has  on  his  side  the  reason  and 
will  of  the  multitude  ;  when  he  has  sympathy  with 
humanity,  and  possesses  the  hearts  of  the  masses. 


146  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

Let  others  say  what  they  please  :  the  many  possess 
more  mind  than  one  person,  whoever  he  may  be  ;  and 
popular  speech  has  more  weight  than  the  speculations 
or  fancies  of  a  man  of  science,  or  even  a  man  of  genius. 

Further,  there  is  a  sort  of  relationship  between 
popularity  and  genius,  so  that  one  cannot  exist  with- 
out the  other.  For,  what  is  a  man  of  genius  ?  He 
is  one  who  has  learnt  to  seize  the  thoughts,  the  aspi- 
rations, the  wants  of  his  own  times,  and  has  pro- 
foundly traced  them  in  brilliant,  energetic,  sympathe- 
tic pages  ;  a  man  who  astonishes  and  revivifies  the  age 
in  which  he  lives,  by  telling  it  aright  what  it  is,  what  it 
thinks,  what  it  wants,  and  what  it  suffers.  Moreover, 
as  has  been  remarked  long  ago,  the  finest  conceptions 
of  genius  are  always  grasped  by  the  people. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  most  sublime  pages  are 
always  popular.  I  shall  cite  but  one  example,  which 
is  familiar  to  all.  .  .  .  The  prophet  Isaiah  is  describ- 
ing the  fall  of  the  King  of  Babylon  : — 

"  How  hath  the  oppressor  ceased  !  .  .  .  The  whole 
earth  is  at  rest,  and  is  quiet  ;  yea,  the  fir-trees  rejoice 
at  thee,  and  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  saying  : — Since 
thou  art  laid  down,  no  feller  is  come  up  against  us. 
Hell  from  beneath  is  moved  for  thee,  to  meet  thee  at 
thy  coming  ;  it  stirreth  up  the  dead  for  thee,  even  all 
the  chief  ones  of  the  earth  ;  it  hath  raised  up  from 
their  thrones  all  the  kings  of  the  nations.  All  they 
shall  speak  and  say  unto  thee  :  Art  thou  also  become 


The  Sermon  shotitd  be  Popular,  147 

weak  as  we  ?  art  thou  become  like  unto  us  ?  Thy 
pomp  is  brought  down  to  the  grave,  and  the  noise  of 
thy  viols  ;  the  worm  is  spread  under  thee,  and  the 
worms  cover  thee.  All  the  kings  of  the  nations  .  .  . 
lie  in  glory  .  .  .  but  thou  art  cast  out  of  thy  grave 
like  an  abominable  branch,  and  as  the  slain,  thrust 
through  with  a  sword,  that  go  down  to  the  stones  of 
the  pit  ;  as  a  carcase  trodden  under  feet  How  art 
thou  fallen  from  heaven,  O  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morn- 
ing !  .  .  .  For  thou  hast  said  in  thine  heart,  I  will 
ascend  unto  heaven,  I  will  exalt  my  throne  above  the 
stars  of  God,  I  will  also  sit  upon  the  mount  of  the  con- 
gregation, in  the  sides  of  the  north.  ...  I  will  be  like 
the  Most  High.  Yet  thou  shalt  be  brought  down  to 
hell,  to  the  sides  of  the  pit.  They  that  see  thee  shall 
narrowly  look  upon  thee,  and  consider  thee,  saying  : — 
Is  this  the  man  that  made  the  earth  to  tremble,  that 
did  shake  kingdoms,  that  made  the  world  as  a  wilder- 
ness "i  .  .  .  Thou  hast  destroyed  thy  land  and  slain  thy 
peojDle.  The  seed  of  evil-doers  shall  never  be  renown- 
ed. Prepare  slaughter  for  his  children  for  the  iniquity 
of  their  fathers,  that  they  do  not  rise  nor  possess  the 
land." — {Isaiah  xiv.  4-21.) 

As  might  be  expected,  all  great  orators  have  been 
popular  ;  for  one  cannot  be  truly  an  orator  by  one's 
own  power  or  by  dint  of  study  ;  there  must  be,  be- 
sides, a  multitude  to  inspire  you,  and  to  stimulate 
you  by  their  criticism  and  opposition. 


148  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

Demosthenes,  the  greatest  orator  of  ancient  times, 
was  pre-eminently  a  popular  orator,  and  that  popu- 
larity was  the  chief  element  of  his  glory.  The 
people  of  Athens  were  all  for  him,  for  he  loved  them 
and  knew  them  thoroughly:  knew  their  frivolity, 
their  vanity,  their  generosity,  and  their  happy  im- 
pulses. He  invoked  all  that  was  great  and  good 
in  the  heart  of  man  ;  not  by  vain  declamations,  but 
by  energetic  appeals  to  sentiments  which  one  would 
blush  not  to  possess.  He  drew  his  inspirations  from 
the  noblest  patriotism,  and  his  politics  —  a  rare  ex- 
ception— had  their  source  in  the  deepest  affections 
of  his  heart. 

Hence  it  was  that  the  people  were  so  much  at- 
tached to  Demosthenes,  and  that  he,  on  his  part, 
could  place  such  unbounded  confidence  in  them. 

^schines  had  complained  that  Demosthenes  had 
reproached  him  with  being  the  host  of  Alexander. 
He  answered  him  in  these  terms  : — "  I  reproach  you 
with  being  the  host  of  Alexaixler  !  I  reproach  you 
with  Alexander's  friendship  !  How  could  you  attain 
it .''  By  what  means  }  No,  I  cannot  call  you  either 
the  friend  of  Philip  or  the  host  of  Alexander  ;  I  am 
not  so  foolish.  Are  reapers  and  hirelings  called  the 
hosts  of  those  who  pay  them }  He  is  nothing,  noth- 
ing of  the  kind.  First,  a  mercenary  of  Philip,  he  is 
now  the  mercenary  of  Alexander  ;  that  is  what  I  and 
all  our  hearers  call  you.     If  you  doubt  it,  ask  them 


The  Sermon  sJiotdd  be  Popular.  149 

.  .  .  or,  rather,  I  will  do  it  for  you.  Men  of 
Athens,  what,  then,  is  your  opinion  ?  Is  ^schines 
the  host,  or  the  mercenary  of  Alexander  ?  .  .  .  Do 
you  hear  their  reply  ?" 

So  likewise  Saint  John  Chrysostom,  who  was,  per- 
haps, the  most  popular  of  orators.  We  do  not  find 
that  he  amused  himself  with  vain  speculations.  He 
did  not  wander  far  and  wide  to  hunt  up  topics  where- 
on to  address  his  hearers,  for  they  themselves  sup- 
plied all  that  he  wanted.  He  found  ample  materials 
for  his  purpose  in  the  depths  of  their  minds  and 
hearts,  and  under  his  masterly  treatment  the  simplest 
things  acquired  an  accent  of  eloquence  which  grati- 
fied and  moved  his  audience,  which  the  people  under- 
stood and  the  learned  admired. 

Surrounded  by  his  congregation,  he  seems  like  a 
father  in  the  midst  of  his  family.  He  converses,  he 
questions,  he  even  consults,  and  he  always  loves. 

It  was  the  custom  in  his  time  for  the  audience  to 
applaud  the  preacher  during  the  sermon.  They  did 
not  spare  him  that  manifestation,  and  these  are  the 
terms  in  which  he  complains  of  it  : — 

"  Believe  me — the  more  so  because  I  would  not 
say  it  were  it  not  true — that  when  you  applaud  my 
discourses,  I  am  seized  with  a  certain  infirmity,  and 
feel  quite  contented  and  happy.  .  .  .  But,  on  re- 
turning home,  I  reflect  that  all  fruit  of  my  speaking 
is  lost  through  these  applauses  and  commendations  ; 


150  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

and  I  say  to  myself:  Of  what  avail  is  my  labor  if 
my  hearers  do  not  profit  thereby  ?  I  have  even 
thought  of  making  a  rule  positively  to  forbid  all  ap- 
plause, that  you  may  listen  to  .me  in  silence,  with 
proper  decorum  and  reserve.  .  .  .  I  pray  and 
conjure  you  to  suffer  me  to  establish  such  a  rule 
forthwith.  .  .  .  Let  us  now  order  that  no  hearer 
shall  make  any  noise  while  the  preacher  is  speaking  ; 
and  that  if  any  one  wishes  to  admire,  let  it  be  by 
keeping  silence.  (Applause.)  Why  do  you  still  ap- 
plaud me,  even  while  I  am  making  a  law  to  prohibit 
the  abuse }  Though  you  will  not  suffer  me  to  speak 
to  you  on  the  subject,  nevertheless,  let  us  enact  the 
law,  for  it  will  be  to  our  advantage.  .  .  .  How- 
ever, I  do  not  wish  to  be  too  rigorous,  for  fear  of  ap- 
pearing uncivil  in  your  estimation  ;  so  that  if  you 
find  so  much  gratification  in  applauding,  I  shall  not 
hinder  it  ;  but  I  will  suggest  to  you  a  much  superior 
motive  for  eliciting  still  greater  applause  on  your 
part,  namely,  that  you  carry  away  with  you  what  you 
hear,  and  practise  it." 

When  condemned  to  his  first  exile,  the  people 
flocked  round  their  pastor,  determined  to  proceed  to 
extremities  rather  than  let  him  depart.  He  then 
addressed  them  the  following  touching  farewell  : — 

"  A  violent  tempest  surrounds  me  on  all  sides  ; 
but  I  fear  nothing,  because  I  stand  on  an  immovable 
rock.     The  fury  of  the  waves  cannot  sink  the  vessel 


TJl£  Sermon  should  be  Popular.  151 

of  Jesus  Christ.  Death  cannot  terrify  me  ;  it  would 
rather  be  a  gain  to  me.  Do  T  fear  exile?  All  the 
earth  is  the  Lord's.  Do  I  fear  the  loss  of  goods  1 
Naked  I  was  born  into  the  world,  and  naked  I  shall 
return.  I  despise  the  scorn  and  the  flattery  of  the 
world.  I  have  no  desire  to  live  but  for  your  wel- 
fare." 

The  people  remained  with  him  eight  days  to  de- 
fend him,  and  the  holy  pastor,  in  order  to  prevent  an 
insurrection,  escaped  by  a  secret  door,  and  delivered 
himself  up  to  his  enemies.  The  Empress  Eudoxia, 
however,  was  soon  obliged  to  recall  him.  "  We  shall 
lose  the  empiré,"  said  she,  "unless  John  is  recalled." 

Then,  again,  O'Connell,  that  orator  who  acquired 
so  wide  an  influence,  how  popular  he  was  !  But  I 
shall  let  M.  de  Cormenin  describe  him  : — 

"  Look  at  O'Connell  with  his  people — for  they  are 
truly  his  people.  He  lives  of  their  life,  he  smiles 
with  their  joys,  he  bleeds  with  their  wounds,  he 
groans  with  their  pains.  He  transports  them  at  his 
will  from  fear  to  hope,  from  slavery  to  liberty,  from 
the  fact  to  the  right,  from  the  right  to  duty,  from 
supplication  to  invective,  and  from  anger  to  mercy 
and  pity.  He  directs  the  people  to  kneel  on  the 
ground  and  pray,  and  they  all  kneel  and  pray  ;  to 
raise  their  faces  to  the  skies,  and  they  raise  them  ; 
to  curse  their  tyrants,  and  they  curse  them  ;  to  sing 
hymns  to  liberty,  and  they  sing  them  ;  to  bare  their 


152  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

heads  and  swear  on  the  holy  Gospels,  and  they  un- 
cover, raise  the  hand,  and  swear  ;  to  .sign  petitions 
for  the  reform  of  abuses,  to  unite,  their  forces,  to, 
pardon  their  enemies,  and  '  they!  sign,'  they  •  forget, 
Ihey  embrace,  they  forgive. 

"That  which  makes  him  incomparable  among  all 
the  orators  of  this  or  any  other  country,  is  that, 
without  any  premeditation,  and  by  impulse  alone,  by 
the  sole  force  of  his  powerful  and  triumphant  nature, 
he  enters  wholly  into  his  subject,  and  appears  to  be 
more  possessed  by  it  than  of  himself  His  heart 
overflows  ;  it  goes  by  bounds,  by  transports,  bring- 
ing into  play  all  its  pulsations.  Like  a  high-bred 
charger,  suddenly  pulled  back  on  its  nervous  and 
quivering  haunches,  even  so  can  O'Connell  arrest 
himself  in  the  unbridled  course  of  his  harangues,  turn 
short  and  resume  them^such  versatility,  spring,  and 
vigor  is  there  in  his  eloquence.  You  imagine  at  first 
that  he  is  staggering,  and  about  to  succumb  under  the 
weight  of  the  divinity  which  inwardly  agitates  him  ; 
but  he  rises  again  with  a  halo  on  his  brow,  an  eye 
full  of  flame,  and  his  voice,  unlike  that  of  a  mortal, 
begins  to  resound  in  the  air,  and  to  fill  all  space. 

"  He  is  lyrical  as  a  poet,  and  familiar  even  to  play-, 
fulness.  He  draws  his  audience  to  him,  and  then 
transfers  them  to  the  floor  of  the  theatre;  or.de-. 
scends  himself  and  mixes  with  the  spectators.  He 
never  allows  the  stage  to  be  without  speech  or  action 


The  Sermon  should  be  Popular.  153 

for  a  single  moment.  He  distributes  the  parts  to  each. 
He  himself  sits  as  judge:  he  arraigns  and  he  con- 
demns ;  the  people  ratify,  upraise  the  hand,  and  seem 
to  believe  that  they  are  joining  in  a  verdict.  Some- 
times O'Connell  adapts  the  interior  drama  of  a  family 
to  the  external  drama  of  political  affairs.  He  calls 
up  his  aged  father,  his  ancestors  and  the  ancestors 
of  the  people  ...  .  He  disposes  and  extem- 
porizes narratives,  monologues,  dialogues,  propœia,  in- 
terludes, and  peripatetics.  Knowing  that  the  Irish 
are  both  light-hearted  and  melancholy,  that  they  are 
fond  of  metaphor,  flourish,  and  sarcasm,  he  stifles 
laughter  with  tears,  the  grandiose  by  the  grotesque. 
He  attacks  the  House  of  Lords,  and,  chasing  them 
from  their  aristocratic  lairs,  tracks  them  one  by  one 
like  wild  beasts.  He  is  always  popular,  be  his  speech 
grave,  sublime,  or  jocular  : — 

"  '  Ireland  !  oh,  how  that  name  alone  sticks  in  the 
Saxon  throat.  My  friends,  my  heart  and  my  mind 
are  known  to  you,  and  I  wish  you  to  understand  this, 
that  I  have  power  enough  to  prevent  either  Peel  or 
Wellington  from  treading  on  the  liberties  of  Ireland. 
I  have  only  to  say  this  to  them  :  We  will  entrench 
ourselves  behind  the  law  and  the  constitution  ;  but  do 
not  attempt  to  put  our  patience  to  the  test  beyond 
bounds,  for  if  there  is  danger  in  exasperating  cowards, 
there  is  a  thousand  times  more  danger  in  exasperating 
those  who  are  not.'     (Applause.)     '  I  told  you  at  the 


154  ^/^^'  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

outset  that  I  did  not  feel  disposed  to  speak  :  this  is 
not  a  speech,  it  is  history  which  I  am  making  at  this 
moment.  The  people  have  placed  unlimited  confi- 
dence in  me.  I  might,  perhaps,  say  with  affected 
modesty  that  I  do  not  deserve  it.  I  will  be  more 
frank.  I  believe  that  I  do  deserve  it.'  (Applause  : 
yes  !  yes  !)  *  Mine  is  a  strange  fortune.  I  believe 
I  am  the  only  man,  living  or  dead,  who  has  enjoyed 
uninterrupted  confidence  and  popularity  for  forty 
years.' 

"  A  voice. — '  May  you  enjoy  them  twice  as  long  !  ' 
"  OC. — '  That  is  impossible.     Long  before  then,  I 
shall  be  summoned   before  my  Maker   to   give  an 
account  of  all  the  actions  of  my  public  and  private 
life. 

"  A  voice. — '  You  have  always  done  your  duty  !  ' 
"  GC. — '  May  such  be  the  judgment  of  the  Most 
High  !  '  (Applause.)  ^  Kindly  spare  me  these  inter- 
ruptions.' (Laughter.)  ^  Our  first  duty  is  to  obey  the 
law.  Don't  think  that  in  giving  you  this  advice  I 
intend  that  you  should  submit  to  unlawful  outrage. 
After  all,  violence  is  not  what  I  fear  —  I  who  am 
alone  in  the  world.'  (Cries  of  no,  no,  you  are  not 
alone  !  '  '  Pardon  me,  my  friends,  I  am  alone  ;  for  she 
for  whom  I  might  have  entertained  fears,  but  whose 
courage  would  certainly  never  have  failed,  has  been 
taken  from  my  affections.'  (O'Connell  pronounced 
these  last  words  with  deep  emotion,  in  which  the 


Tlie  Scruton  sJioiild  be  Popular.  155 

wtiole  a';/':mbly  seemed  to  participate.    Several  ladies 
present  noised  their  handkerchiefs  to  their  eyes.) 

"  *  Were  they  to  put  a  gag  in  my  mouth  or  hand- 
cuffs on  my  wrists,  I  would  still  point  out  the  safest 
and  wisest  course  for  you  to  follow.  I  trust  there  Avill 
be  no  conflict  :  let  us  close  our  ranks,  shoulder  to 
shoulder,  let  us  rally  round  the  constitution,  that  Ire- 
land may  not  be  delivered  over  to  her  enemies  by  the 
folly,  the  passions,  or  the  treachery  of  her  children.' 
(Applause.)" 

He  knows  how  to  excite  the  laughter  of  his  au- 
dience, and  to  enliven  them  with  racy  comparisons, 
which  are  sometimes,  however,  of  a  kind  unsuited  to 
Christian  discourses. 

"  There  was  formerly  a  fool  in  Kerry — a  rare  thing 
there.  This  fool  having  discovered  a  hen's  nest, 
waited  till  the  hen  had  quitted  it,  and  then  took 
the  eggs  and  sucked  them.  After  sucking  the  first, 
the  chicken  which  had  been  in  the  shell  began  to  cry 
out  while  descending  the  fool's  throat.  'Ah,  my 
boy,'  said  he,  '  you  speak  too  late.'  (Laughter.)  My 
friends,  I  am  not  a  fool  ;  I  know  how  to  suck  eggs. 
(Laughter.)  Should  England  now  be  disposed  to  tell 
me  that  she  is  ready  to  do  us  justice,  I  would  say 
to  England  as  the  Kerry  fool  said  to  the  chicken  : 
'  My  darling,  you  speak  too  late.'  (Laughter  and  ap- 
plause.)" 


156  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit.    . 

He  then  continued,  in  the  most  subUme  and  rap- 
turous accents  : — 

"  In  the  presence  of  my  God,  and  with  the  most 
profound  feehng  of  the  responsibility  attached  to  the 
solemn  and  arduous  duties  which  you  Irishmen  have 
twice  imposed  on  me,  I  accept  them,  relying  not  on 
my  own  strength,  but  on  yours.  :  The  people  of  Clare 
know  that  the  only  basis  of  liberty  is  religion.  They 
have  triumphed  because  the  voice  raised  in  behalf  of 
the  country  was  first  uttered  in  prayer  to  God.  Songs 
of  liberty  are  now  heard  throughout  our  green  isle, 
their  notes  traverse  the  hills,  they  fill  the  valleys,  they 
murmur  with  the  waves  of  our  rivers  and  streams,  and 
respond  in  tones  of  thunder  to  the  echoes  of  the 
mountains.     Ireland  is  free  !" 

One  may  readily  conceive  the  magic  of  this  speech. 
I  borrow  once  more  from  the  pen  of  M.  de  Cormenin. 

"  Eloquence  does  not  exercise  all  its  power,  its 
strong,  sympathetic,  moving  power,  except  upon  the 
people.  Look  at  O'Connell,  the  grandest,  perhaps 
the  only  orator  of  modern  times.  How  his  thunder- 
ing voice  towers  over  and  rules  the  waves  of  the 
multitude  !  I  am  not  an  Irishman,  I  have  never  seen 
O'Connell  ;  I  believe  I  should  not  understand  him. 
Why,  then,  am  I  moved  by  his  discourses  — even 
when  translated  into  a  strange  tongue,  discolored, 
stunted,  and  deprived  of  the  charm  of  voice  and  ac- 
tion— more  than  with  all  I  have  ever  heard  in  my 


The  Sermon  should  bê  Popular.  157 

own  country  ?  It  is  because  they  are  utterly  unlike 
our  jumbled,  wordy  rhetoric  ;  because  it  is  true  pas- 
sion, that  inspires  him  :  passion  which  can.  and  does 
say  all  that  it  has  to,  say.  It  is,  that  he. draws  me 
from  the  shore,  that  he  whirls  with  me,  and  drags  me 
with  him  into  his  current.  ;It  is  that  he  shudders, 
and  I  shudder  ;  that  he  utters  cries  from  the  depths 
of  his  soul  which  ravish  my  soul  ;  that  he  raises  me 
on  his  wings  and  sustains  me  in  the  sacred  transports 
of  liberty.  Under  the  influence  of  his  sublime  elo- 
quence, I  abhor,  I  detest  with  furious  hatred,  the 
tyrants  of  that  unfortunate  country,  just  as  if  I 
were  O'Connell's  fellow-citizen  ;  and  I  seem  to  love 
green  Ireland  as  much  as  my  own  native  land." 

Here  we  have  an  orator  who  should  be  constantly 
studied  by  all  those  who  wish  to  benefit  the  people. 

There  is  a  wide  difference  between  such  powerful 
speeches  and  those  dreary  metaphysical  sermons, 
those  finely-spun  phrases,  that  quintessence  of  reason- 
ing, so  common  amongst  us.  For,  what  do  we  often 
take  for  an  orator  or  preacher.''  .  .  .  One  who  wraps 
himself  in  his  own  conceptions,  and  soars  into  sub- 
lime regions,  while,  the  poor  audience  is  left  on  the 
plain  below,  to  gaze  at  him  or  not,  to  grow  weary,  to 
sleep  or  to  chat,  when  they  cannot  decently  go  away. 

And  yet  it  is  so  easy  to  be  popular  in  France. 
The  native  mind  is  prompt  and  readily  roused  to  the 
noblest  sentiments.     Moreover,  we  are  bound  to  do 


158  The  Clergy  and  the  l^ulpit. 

the  higher  classes  this  justice,  that  they  always  tole- 
rate and  even  admire  the  preacher  who  addresses  the 
people.  They  mingle  with  the  crowd  to  join  in  their 
applause,  and,  what  is  better,  to  profit  by  what  they 
hear.  Yes,  strange  to  say,  under  the  influence  of 
such  eloquence,  scholars  and  wits  throw  aside  their 
arguments  and  their  prejudices,  and  become  one  with 
the  people — think,  feel,  and  commend  as  they  do.  .  .  . 
There  are  two  powerful  ways  of  leading  men  :  to  take 
up  with  the  higher  classes  or  to  go  to  the  masses. 
The  latter  appears  the  more  powerful  nowadays,  for 
opinion  and  strength  always  prevail  with  those  whose 
wills  are  feeble. 

We  must  retrace  our  steps,  then,  and  resume  a 
popular  style  of  address,  which,  to  use  a  homely  com- 
parison, consists  simply  in  entering  in  by  the  door  of 
the  people,  and  making  them  go  out  by  ours  ;  for  to 
be  truly  popular  is  :  to  love  the  people  ardently,  to 
throw  our  souls  into  theirs,  to  identify  ourselves  with 
them  ;  to  think,  feel,  will,  love,  as  they  do  ;  to  rouse 
their  instincts  of  justice,  generosity,  and  pity;  to 
fill  their  souls  with  the  noblest  thoughts  ;  to  exalt 
with  the  breath  of  the  Gospel  their  holiest  aspira- 
tions, and  to  send  these  back  to  them  in  burning 
words,  in  outbursts  and  sallies  of  the  heart  ;  and  then, 
as  with  a  back-stroke  of  the  hand,  to  crush  their 
errors  and  destroy  their  vices,  and  to  lead  them  on- 
ward after  you,  while  they  shall  believe  that  they  are 


The  Sermojt  should  be  Popular.  159 

still  leading  the  way  ;  to  abase  them  to  the  lowest 
depths,  and  then  to  raise  them  to  heaven.  In  all  this, 
making  them  to  play  so  prominent  a  part  that,  after 
hearing  you,  they  may  almost  be  led  to  say  with 
secret  satisfaction  : — "What  an  excellent  sermon  we 
have  delivered  !"  Then  will  your  words  be  invested 
with  the  two  greatest  powers  in  the  world  :  they  will 
be  the  voice  of  the  people  and  the  voice  of  God. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   SERMON   SHOULD   BE    PLAIN. 

An  obscure  Sermon  is  neither  Christian  nor  French — Abuse  of  philoso- 
phical Terms — Philosophical  Speculations  not  popular  amongst 
us — The  French  mind  is  clear  and  logical — Plainness  of  Speech — 
Plainness  of  Thought — Starting  from  the  Known  to  the  Unknown 
— Metaphors — Similes — Parables — Facts  —  Père  Lejeune  —  M. 
l'Abbé  Ledreuil. 

The  sermon  should  be  plain.     .     .     . 

This  truth  has  been  partially  demonstrated  in  the 
course  of  the  foregoing  remarks.  It  follows,  moreover, 
as  a  consequence  from  the  nature  and  design  of  the 
Gospel.  The  religious  discourse  which  is  not  plain 
is  neither  Christian  nor  French. 

The  Divine  word  should  be  understood  by  all,  even 
by  the  poor  woman  who  crouches  into  a  corner  of 
the  church  ;  for  she  too  has  a  soul  to  save,  and  her 
soul  is  as  precious  in  the  sight  of  God  as  the  soul 
of  a  rich  or  learned  man  :  perhaps  more. 

This  is  one  ofthe  glories  of  Christianity.  Human  lore 
is  only  within  the  reach  of  those  who  are  able  to  com- 
prehend it,  or  who  have  money  enough  to  pay  for  it. 


The  Sermon  ' shoidd  be  Plain.  1 6 1 

The  word  of  God  is  for  all  ;  and  none  can  be  deprived 
of  it,  as  far  as  the  . preacher. is^cpncerned,  without  a 
grave  dereliction  of  duty  on  his  part.  .  Severe  censure 
is  passed'  upon  those  professorswho,  to  further  their 
own  ambitious  views,  take  great  pains  ^with  some  of 
their  pupils  and  neglect  others.  ;  This  is  called  a  cry- 
ing injustice,  plundering  the.  parents,  and  so  forth. 
But  the  matter  under .  consideration  involves  some- 
thing far  more  serious  than  a  pecuniary  robbery. 

We  are  all  bound  to  preach  the  Gospel.  ;  Now,  the 
Gospel  is  remarkably  plain.'  When  it  was  first  an- 
nounced, or. while  the  facts  which  it  narrates  were 
extant  or  palpable,  it  must  have  been  surpassingly  so. 
Hence  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  multitude  upon 
whom  our  blessed  Lord  had  been  pouring  forth  the 
torrents  of  His  Divine  eloquence,  exclaimed  : — "  Never 
man  spake  like  this  man  !" 

Further:  he  who  does  not  use  plain  speech  does 
not  speak  French  ;  for  the  French  language  is  natu- 
rally plain,  limpid,  and  simple,  insomuch  that  obscure 
speech  is  not  really  French  :  it  is  Teutonic,  a  jargon, 
or  a  patois  ;  but.it  is; by  no  means  the  language  of 
the  great  Frank  people.  -    . 

'All  our  most  celebrated  and  popular  writers  and 
orators  had;  a  .clear  and  .  impressive  style.  Their 
weakest  passages  are  those  which  are  most  obscure. 
Voltaire  possessed  this  perspicuity  in  a  high  degree  ; 
and  it  was  partly  on  that  account  that  he  acquired. 


1 62  The  Clergy  and  tJie  Pulpit. 

so  much  influence  and  popularize'd  so  many  errors. 
His  speech  was  true  French,  both  in  expression  and 
conception  ;  but  there  was  no  heart  in  it.  He  had 
perfectly  mastered  his  own  tongue,  and  had  equally 
learned  to  know  the  people  with  whom  he  had  to 
deal.  He  who  does  not  use  plain  speech  proves  that 
he  possesses  neither  a'  knowledge  of  men  nor  a 
knowledge  of  the  Gospel  ;  nor  even  of  his  primary 
duties. 

But  it  will  be  said  : — Is  it  not  occasionally  allow- 
able that  one  should  clothe  his  thoughts  in  language 
above  the  common,  in  order  thereby  to  raise  religion 
and  the  preacher  in  the  eyes  of  the  people,  who 
admire  what  they  do  not  understand  1 

I  do  not  object,  if  you  believe  that  any  good  is  to 
be  done  in  that  way,  and  if  you  feel  incapable  of  ex- 
citing interest  by  a  simple  exposition  of  the  beauties 
of  Christianity.  But  I  tell  you  that  the  idea  savors 
strongly  of  charlatanism,  and  that  Christianity  has  no 
need  of  such  an  auxiliary.  Whenever  such  a  course 
is  adopted,  it  should  be  regarded  as  a  tolerated  excep- 
tion ;  but  on  this  point,  also,  the  exception  has  too 
frequently  been  taken  for  the  rule. 

Nowadays,  the  Gospel  is  almost  entirely  overlooked, 
there  are  so  many  other  matters  to  be  attended  to. 
We  must  needs  discuss  and  argue,  and  treat  all  kinds 
of  philosophical  and  humanitarian  questions.  Hence 
a  great  part  of  our  time  is  taken  up  with  talking  phi- 


The  Sermon  shotild  be  Plaijt.  163 

losophy  to  pious  men  and  women, — and  after  what 
fashion  ?     The  pulpit  resounds  with  such  words  as 
these  :  rationahsm,  philosophism,  Protestantism,  ma- 
teriaUsm,  pantheism,  sociahsm  ;  and  it  will  be  lucky 
if  all  this  does   not   ultimately  get   mixed   up  with 
fetishism,  anthropormorphism,  Vishnooism,  Buddhism, 
Kantism,  Hegelism,  etc.     No  wonder  that  a  woman 
of  fashion  once  exclaimed,  in  a  fit  of  petulance  : — 
"  The  Lord  deliver  us  from  these  preachers  oï  isms  /" 
I  repeat,  it  is  all  well  enough  that  à  few  eminent 
men  should  treat  such  questions  before  select  audi- 
ences ;  but  now  every  one  seems  bent  on   talking 
philosophy,  or  on  philosophizing  about  every  thing. 
We  have  the  philosophy  of  theology,  the  philosophy 
of  the  sacraments,  the  philosophy  of  the  liturgy  ;  and 
to  what  does  it  all  tend  }     To  prove  that  God  might 
have  occupied  a  prominent  place  among  the  thinkers 
of  these  times  :  which  would  be  proving  very  little  in 
God's  favor. 

There  has,  indeed,  been  quite  a  mania  to  make 
philosophy  about  every  thing.  We  have  heard  a  trea- 
tise on  the  philosophy  of  the  hand-grenade.  As  a 
malicious  wag  once  remarked  : — "  We  shall  soon  have 
the  philosophy  of  boots  and  shoes." 

Hence  it  is  that  the  ignorance  respecting  religion 
everywhere  prevailing,  among  high  and  low,  even 
among  those  who  constantly  hear  sermons,  is  truly 
deplorable. 


164  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

Society  in  general  is  much  less  instructed  in 
matters  of  religion,  and  even. in  philosophical  ques- 
tions, than  is  usually  supposed  ;  for  religion  is  no 
longer  taught.  We  demonstrate,  argue,  philosophize, 
but  we  do  not  evangelize.  ...  .:  . ';  ..  There  is  so  much 
ignorance  among  men, ,  otherwise  well-informed,  on 
the  subject  of  religion,  that  they  would  certainly  be 
deemed  unfit  for  '  confirmation  even  in  a  country 
district. 

Neither  is  the  community  more  proficient  in  philo- 
sophical than  in  religious  questions  ;  and  much  less 
attention  is  bestowed  upon  them  than  is  imagined. 
We  meet  with  certain  systems  in  special  books,  or 
among  a  particular  class  of  persons,  and  we  may 
think  that  those  systems  are  about  to  make  a  great 
stir  in  the  world.  -  But  do  the  masses  trouble  them- 
selves about  them  t  For  the  most  part,  even  intel- 
ligent men  hardly  know  what  to  say  when  referred  to 
on  such  subjects. 

-  Some  "years  ago,  a  preacher  delivered  several  dis- 
courses in  one  of  the  principal  towns  of  France  on 
the  subject  of  rationalism.  He  decried  it  in  good  set 
terms,  and  was  :  judged  to  have,  spoken  very  ably. 
But  the  wife  of  a  councillor  in  the  Court  of  Appeal, 
tired  of  hearing  so  much  about; rationalism  without 
being  able  to  make  out  what  it  was,  asked  her  hus- 
band, who  was  a  great  admirer  of  the  discourses,  to 
explain  to  her  what  rationalism  meant.    The  husband 


TJie  Sermon  shoîdd  be  Plain.  165 

stammered  out  a  few  words  in  reply,  but  was  obliged 
at  last  to  say  : — "  Sincerely,  I  know  nothing  about  it  ; 
but  inquire  of  M.  le  Curé,  for  he  ought  to  be  able  to 
give  you  the  information." 

Instead  of  dragging  all  these  systems  into  the 
pulpit,  it  would  have  been  far  better  to  leave  them 
immured  in  books  and  in  the  schools.  They  are  not 
dangerous  in  France  while  restricted  to  the  formulae 
in  which  they  were  originally  conceived,  because 
philosophical  speculations  are  by  no  means  populai 
amongst  us.  The  French  mind  is  too  precise  and 
active  to  be  taken  up  with  such  like  dreams  and 
crude  systems. 

A  proof  of  this  is  afforded  by  the  old  Chamber  of 
Deputies.  .  .  .  When  a  speaker  was  practical,  and 
entered  into  the  gist  of  the  question  in  debate,  there 
was  profound  silence  ;  but  if  he  attempted  lofty 
flights,  and  soared  into  the  region  of  philosophical 
speculations,  the  attention  of  the  hearers  flagged,  and 
a  great  uproar  ensued,  insomuch  that  the  luckless 
orator  was  frequently  driven  to  call  upon  the  Presi- 
dent to  enforce  silence  and  order  ;  who,  on  his  part, 
reiterated  that  he  could  not  interfere.  .  .  .  Altos^e- 
ther  such  scenes  presented  a  curious  study. 

Generally  speaking,  the  Frenchman  is  essentially 
a  practical  man. 

It  is  true  that  ever  and  anon  we  pretend  to  great 
depth  ;  but  the  malady  is  momentary  and  dees  not 


1 66  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

last  long.  We  are,  in  fact,  like  certain  eminent  men 
who  affect  a  speciality  to  which  they  have  no  just 
claim,  and  who  consider  themselves  more  honored 
by  a  compliment  for  an  acquirement  which  they  do 
not  possess,  than  by  any  which  may  be  paid  them  for 
a  talent  for  which  they  are  really  conspicuous. 

In  combating  this  tendency  and  these  systems, 
we  must  be  on  our  guard  against  assailing  them  with 
hazy  tirades  or  dull  metaphysics.  We  should  drag 
them  into  the  full  light  of  the  Gospel,  and  dissect 
them  by  translating  them  into  plain  French,  and  then 
they  will  soon  disappear  altogether.  We  must  fur- 
ther bear  in  mind  that  the  truth,  and  especially  evan- 
gelical truth,  is  only  rightly  apprehended  by  the 
heart  ;  whereas  there  is  a  general  disposition  amongst 
us  to  be  always  reasoning.  Are  we  not  aware  that  bare 
reason  is  foolishly  vain,  dishonest,  stern,  and  some- 
times pitiless,  and  that  to  be  constantly  appealing  to 
its  authority  is  to  lose  our  time,  and  to  engender 
the  most  deplorable  ignorance  in  matters  of  reli- 
gion } 

The  people  are  very  fond  of  understanding  what 
is  addressed  to  them,  for  it  raises  them  in  their  own 
eyes,  and  is,  moreover,  a  real  gratification  to  them. 
Therein  they  are  active,  whereas  when  merely  as- 
tounded they  are  simply  passive  ;  to  say  nothing  of 
the  additional  fact  that  they  go  away  as  ignorant  as 
thev  came. 


The  Sermon  should  be  Plain,  167 

A  preacher  who  had  been  specially  appointed  to 
deliver  a  course  of  sermons  in  one  of  our  towns,  was 
accosted  while  walking  out  by  a  poor  woman,  upon 
whom  his  presence  seemed  to  produce  a  lively  im- 
pression of  joy,  which  was  forthwith  manifested  in 
these  words  : — "  How  delighted  I  am  to  have  met 
you  !  I  must  tell  you  that  I  attend  your  sermons 
and  understand  them.  Yes,  believe  me,  even  I 
understand  your  sermons.  Every  body  says  that  you 
are  a  savant,  but  for  my  part  I  don't  believe  it  ;  be- 
cause, whenever  our  rector  or  his  curates  preach,  I 
don't  understand  anything  they  say  ;  whereas  when 
you  preach  I  understand  all.  If  you  were  a  savant, 
an  ignoramus  like  me  would  not  be  able  to  under- 
stand you."  .  .  . 

We  must  retrace  our  steps,  then,  and  return  to  a 
clear,  plain,  simple,  and  vivifying  exposition  of  the 
Gospel  ;  for  when  religion  is  set  forth  in  that  way  it 
is  always  attractive.  We  may  have  to  study  much  to 
attain  it,  but  when  once  Christianity  is  rightly  under- 
stood, and  we  get  thoroughly  to  know  those  wdth 
whom  we  have  to  do,  we  shall  find  it  possible  to 
acquire  an  influence  over  their  minds  and  hearts,  and 
easy  to  adapt  our  style  to  the  intelligence  of  all.  You 
should  see  the  working  classes  when  addressed  by  one 
of  our  great  preachers  :  their  countenances  brighten, 
their  eyes  glisten,  their  bosoms  glow.  They  under- 
stand, they  are  moved,  they  applaud. 


i68  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

To  attain  this  plainness — speech  being  the  vehicle 
of  thought — words  should  never  be  used  which  are 
not  generally  understood.  There  are  terms  in  lan- 
guage which  are  common  to  the  literary  and  non- 
literary  ;  only  such  should  be  adopted,  and  all  scien- 
tific, philosophical,  technical,  theological,  and  even 
devotional  terminology  should  be  discarded.  Our 
age  is  not  strong  in  spiritual  matters  :  they  speak 
a  language  which  it  does  not  even  care  to  learn,  for 
it  does  not  feel  the  need  of  it. 

Use  none  of  those  set  phrases,  those  trite  expres- 
sions, which  follow  one  after  another  in  all  sermonizers 
for  the  last  half  century.  They  form  a  threadbare 
language  which  no  longer  conveys  any  meaning,  and 
which  is  quite  unfit  for  the  transmission  of  thought. 
Drive  them  from  your  pen  and  lips  ;  try  to  acquire  a 
disgust,  a  hatred  for  them  :  they  are  more  unintelli- 
gible than  either  Latin  or  Greek.  You  would  do  well 
to  abstain  entirely  from  perusing  such  sermonizers, 
because  one  unwittingly  picks  up  their  hackneyed 
phraseology  ;  which  will  recur  to  you  when  you  are  at 
a  loss  what  else  to  say.  Moreover,  they  prevent  you 
from  being  natural.  .  .  . 

It  is  desirable,  doubtless,  that  you  should  read  Bour- 
daloue  for  doctrine,  Bossuet  for  touch  and  for  the  sub- 
lime, Massillon  for  style  and  form  ;  but  let  that  suffice. 
Then  read  the  Scriptures,  the  Fathers,  books  of  devo- 
tion, and  such  other  works  as  will  make  you  acquaint- 


The  Sermon  should  be  Plain.  169 

ed  with  the  wants  and  tendencies  of  the  age,  and 
teach  you  how  to  combat  its  passions  and  its  errors. 

You  must  beware,  however,  of  attempting  to  preach 
like  Bossuet,  Bourdaloue,  or  Massillon.  They  ad- 
dressed courtiers,  and  the  éhte  of  society  of  their 
times,  when  men  had  more  knowledge  of  religion 
than  they  have  now.  Besides,  if  those  eminent 
preachers  lived  in  these  days,  there  is  every  reason 
to  believe  that  they  would  not  always  speak  now  as 
they  did  then. 

Plain  speech  should  be  coupled  with  plain  thought. 

The  thoughts  which  serve  as  starting  points,  should 
always  be  simple,  natural,  and  popular.  The  people 
do  not  understand  abstractions  or  the  speculations  of 
reason,  which  are  to  them  a  strange  language.  You 
should  start  from  the  known  to  lead  them  to  the  un- 
known. That  is  the  mathematical  and  logical  method. 
You  must  begin  with  sensible,  visible,  and  above  all 
with  actual  things,  in  order  to  draw  them  gently 
toward  spiritual  and  invisible  things,  and  to  the  life 
that  is  to  come.  By  adopting  this  course,  you  may 
conduct  them  far  onward,  and  elevate  them  to  great 
heights,  even  to  the  sublimest  aspirations  of  heart 
and  soul.  ...  As  we  have  already  said  by  way 
of  example  :  first  exhibit  religion  to  them  as  grand, 
good,  and  lovely,  then  as  true  and  divine  ;  winding  up 
by  fervently  and  energetically  insisting  on  the  neces- 
sity of  submission  to  its  moral  law. 


I^O  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Piilpit. 

It  is  an  excellent  plan  to  adopt  the  ordinary  ex- 
pressions in  every-day  use  among  the  people,  and  to 
apply  them  in  a  religious  sense.  Thus,  you  might 
tell  them  to  lay  up  in  the  Savings  Bank  of  Heaven, 
to  become  members  of  the  Refuge  Fnnd  of  Eternity, 
and  you  will  be  understood. 

Monsigneur  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  during  some 
of  his  visitations,  furnishes  us  with  a  delightful  model 
of  this  style  of  addressing  the  people  : — 

"  My  children,"  said  he  to  the  operatives  who  had 
assembled  in  a  courtyard  to  see  and  hear  him, — "my 
children,  while  attending  to  your  worldly  interests  and 
material  welfare — for  the  increase  of  which  you  have 
my  sincere  wishes — think  also  sometimes  of  that  God 
who  created  us,  and  in  whom  we  live,  and  move,  and 
have  our  being.  Do  you  know  what  that  man  re- 
sembles who  lives  without  God  and  without  hope  'i 
He  is  like  a  piece  of  wheel-work  out  of  gear,  or  a 
faulty  machine,  which  only  mars  what  it  ought  to 
make,  wounds  the  hand  which  it  should  help,  and 
obliges  the  owner  to  break  it  up  and  throw  it  aside. 

"  Maintain,  then,  my  beloved  children,  the  senti- 
ments, and  practise  the  duties  which  belong  to  your 
dignity  as  men.  As  workmen,  be  industrious,  honest, 
and  temperate,  and  your  condition  will  be  as  happy 
as  it  can  be  here  below,  remembering  that  rest  will 
come  after  toil  ;  for  we  are  all  the  day-laborers  of  a 
gracious  God,  and  life  is  but  a  day,  at  the  end  of 


The  Sermon  sJioidd  be  Plain.  171 

which  we  shall  receive  ample  wages,  and  be  abun- 
dantly recompensed  for  all  our  pains. 

"My  children,  I  am  glad  to  see  that  my  words 
affect  you.  I  regret  being  obliged  to  separate  from 
you  ;  but  before  going  I  give  you  my  benediction  as 
an  earnest  of  my  paternal  tenderness,  and  of  all  the 
Divine  graces  which  I  invoke  upon  you,  upon  all 
who  are  dear  to  you,  upon  your  families  and  your 
labors." 

We  should  begin,  then,  by  exhibiting  the  material 
aspects  of  religion,  proceeding  from  thence  to  doc- 
trines and  duties,  without  ceasing  to  be  simple,  true, 
and  natural  throughout.  This,  however,  is  not  the 
usual  course  pursued  :  we  start  wdth  metaphysics, 
move  onward  through  a  redundant  phraseology,  and 
end  by  making  religion  more  unintelligible  than  ever. 

But  we  must  be  fair  :  preachers  are  not  wholly  to 
blame  in  this  matter  ;  for  if  one  tries  to  be  simple, 
true,  natural,  and  evangelical,  they  will  tell  him  in 
certain  districts  that  his  style  is  not  sufficiently  high- 
flown,  that  it  does  not  do  honor  to  the  pulpit.  This 
actually  occurred  to  one  of  our  best  preachers.  A 
member  of  the  congregation  came  to  him  and  said  : — 
"  You  speak  admirably  ;  but  there  is  one  drawback 
to  your  sermons,  they  are  too  well  understood."  So 
that  the  poor  preacher,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  views 
of  his  adviser,  felt  that  he  would  be  obliged  to  invoke 
the  Holy  Spirit  to  give  him  grace  to  say  unintelligible 


\>j2  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

things  !  .  .  .  What  they  wanted  was  something 
bombastic,  academical,  and  highly  seasoned  ;  and 
such  is  what  is  generally  regarded  as  constituting  a 
profound,  dignified,  and  useful  sermon. 

Look  at  our  blessed  Lord  :  surely  He  knew  what 
real  dignity  was.  Or,  let  us  study  the  Gospel  :  do  we 
find  there  any  of  these  fine  airs,  this  inflated  and  con- 
sequential tone  ?  It  is  simple,  clear,  and  profound 
throughout.  We  hear  it  occasionally  said  of  certain 
individuals  : — "  He  cannot  adapt  himself  to  the  capacity 
of  every  one  ;  his  knowledge  is  far  too  high  and  deep 
for  that  ;"  which  means,  that  the  poor  man  indicated 
has  heaped  up  in  his  brains,  pell-mell,  a  mass  of  ill- 
digested  ideas  which  he  is  unable  to  call  forth  with 
any  thing  like  order  :  and  that  is  all.  The  truly  pro- 
found man,  on  the  contrary,  is  always  clear.  He 
moves  calmly  through  the  highest  regions  of  science, 
and  is  as  much  at  his  ease  there  as  if  he  were  at  home. 
He  sees  things,  and  he  narrates  them.  He  turns  his 
thoughts  over  and  over  again,  putting  them  into  a 
thousand  forms,  so  as  to  be  able  to  place  them  within 
reach  of  the  feeblest  intellects.  Take  M.  Arago  as  an 
example  of  this  wisdom  and  simplicity  combined.  He 
succeeds  in  rendering  the  highest  problems  of  astro- 
nomy intelligible,  and  that  in  a  few  words,  even  to 
very  young  children.     .     .     . 

Herein,  also,  a  wrong  estimate  has  been  formed  of 
the  French  mind  ;  since  even  those  who  move  in  the 


The  Sermon  sJwitld  be  Plain.  173 

highestxircles  of  society  much  prefer  what  is  simple, 
clear,  and  natural. 

There  is  a  well-known  preacher  in  Paris  who  gives 
familiar  lectures — they  are  real  sermons — even  when 
appointed  select  season-preacher.  He  has  been 
preaching  for  the  last  twenty  years  without  ever 
sparing  himself,  readily  responding  to  every  call. 
Crowds  of  the  elegant  world,  notwithstanding,  press 
round  his  pulpit,  and  there  is  always  the  same  af- 
fluence of  hearers.  The  most  eminent  of  preachers, 
who  adopted  a  different  style  of  address,  would  have 
been  used-up  long  since. 

A  priest,  full  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  died  some  years 
ago  in  the  flower  of  his  age.  He  was  remarkable  in 
the  art  of  giving  plain  and  simple  lectures.  After  his 
death,  these  lectures,  in  a  mutilated  form,  were  col- 
lected and  published  by  a  female,  and  obtained  as 
wide  a  circulation  as  the  most  celebrated  discourses. 

Plain  speech  pleases  and  benefits  all  ;  whereas 
what  is  called  sublime  speech  only  amuses  a  few, 
and  benefits  fewer  still. 

But  one  of  the  most  effectual  ways  of  making  the 
truth  understood  by  the  people  is  by  metaphor  and 
simile.  They  speak  an  analogous  language  themselves 
and  readily  understand  it  ;  more  especially  when  the 
comparisons  are  drawn  from  visible,  present,  or  actual 
things,  and  when  they  are  striking  or  popular.  The 
Sacred  Scriptures  are  full  of  expositions  of  this  nature. 


174  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

and  the  sermons  of  Père  Lejeune  also  contain  a  rich 
mine  of  the  same  class. 

O'Connell  did  not  overlook  this  means  of  influencing 
the  people,  and  he  sometimes  employed  it  in  the  most 
picturesque  and  characteristic  fashion. 

He  was  one  day  assailing  the  hereditary  peerage. 
"  What  are  the  lords  .''"  said  he.  "  Because  the  father 
was  considered  a  good  legislator,  therefore  the  son 
must  be  the  same  !  Just  as  if  a  man  who  proposed  to 
make  you  a  coat  should  answer  the  question  :  Are  you 
a  tailor }  by  saying  that  his  father  before  him  was. 
Is  there  any  of  you  who  would  employ  such  an  here- 
ditary tailor }  This  principle  of  common  sense  as 
regards  the  lords  will  become  popular  in  time.  We 
want  no  hereditary  legislators  or  tailors.  Do  you  ask 
who  will  make  this  principle  popular  }  I  reply,  the 
lords  themselves,  who  show  themselves  to  be  very 
bad  tailors." 

Above  all,  similes  drawn  from  actual  things  make 
a  still  greater  impression. 

Thus,  steam-ençines  and  railroads  are  a  common 
topic  of  conversation  nowadays,  and  form  a  rich 
source  from  whence  to  derive  matter  for  stirring 
similes  and  for  profitable  instruction.  For  example, 
you  wish  to  point  out  the  necessity  of  mastering  the 
passions,  and  of  restraining  them  by  the  laws  of  God. 
The  heart  of  man  may  be  likened  to  a  steam-engine 
of  terrific   power,   which   we   should   mistrust,   and 


The  Sermon  should  be  Plain.  175 

which  reijuires  to  be  under  the  most  vigorous  con- 
trol. 

Look  at  the  locomotive  confined  within  its  iron 
furrows.  It  is  a  wonderful  thing  ;  it  approximates 
distances,  develops  commerce,  and  contributes  to 
the  welfare  of  man.  There  is  much  in  it  to  call 
forth  gratitude  to  a  beneficent  Providence.  But  look 
at  it  when  thrown  off  the  line.  O  God  !  what  do  I 
hear  and  see  '^.  I  near  the  most  piercing  and  heart- 
rending screams  ;  I  see  blood  flowing,  limbs  broken, 
heads  crushed  ;  and  I  turn  from  the  spectacle,  and 
almost  curse  the  inventor.  ...  In  like  manner,  the 
heart  of  man,  when  restrained  by  the  law  of  God,  is 
worthy  of  all  admiration  ;  it  begets  the  noblest  and 
sublimest  virtues,  and  scatters  the  blessings  of  a  good 
example  all  around.  It  brings  joy  and  gladness  to 
the  domestic  hearth,  rendering  all  those  happy  who 
love  it  ;  and  on  seeing  such  results  I  am  proud  of 
being  a  man.  But  once  beyond  the  bounds  of  that 
law — thrown  off  the  rails,  as  it  were — O  God  !  what 
do  I  hear  and  see  }  I  hear  bitter  lamentations,  the 
harrowing  cries  of  mothers,  wives,  and  children.  I 
see  vice,  and  crime,  and  shame  mantling  on  the  brow 
of  those  who  indulge  therein  ;  and  at  the  sight  of  so 
much  misery  and  degradation  I  am  tempted  to  utter 
imprecations,  and  almost  blush  that  I  am  a  man. 

Finally,  another  way  of  simplifying  truth  is  by 
narrative,  of  which  the  people  are  very  fond.     They 


1^6  The  Clei'gy  and  the  Pulpit. 

cast  every  thing,  even  spiritual  things,  into  tales, 
legends,  and  facts,  which  they  take  pleasure  in  learn- 
ing to  recite.  We  should  imitate  them,  by  putting 
a  moral  or  dogmatic  truth  into  action,  connecting  it 
with  a  fact,  and  then  narrate  it  ;  in  short,  give  it  the 
form  of  a  little  drama.  When  skilfully  employed, 
this  method  has  a  powerful  effect  upon  the  people, 
and  even  upon  educated  men.  The  Paroles  d'tm 
Croyant  owed  a  part  of  the  notoriety  which  it  ac- 
quired to  this  feature.  The  people  must  have  facts, 
and  often  nothing  but  facts.  In  like  manner  the  Gos- 
pel narrates,  but  seldom  argues.  The  Holy  Scriptures 
are  full  of  truths  rendered  palpable,  as  it  were,  by 
scenic  representation. 

Thus  the  prophet  Isaiah  exposes  the  folly  of  idola- 
try in  these  words  : — 

"  Who  hath  formed  a  god  or  a  graven  image  that 
is  profitable  for  nothing  1  .  .  .  He  heweth  him  down 
cedars,  and  taketh  the  cypress  and  the  oak  from 
among  the  trees  of  the  forest  ;  he  planteth  an  ash, 
and  the  rain  doth  nourish  it.  .  .  .  He  burneth  part 
thereof  in  the  fire  ;  with  part  thereof  he  eateth  flesh  ; 
he  eateth  roast  and  is  satisfied  ;  yea,  he  warmeth 
himself,  and  saith,  Aha  !  I  am  warm,  I  have  seen  the 
fire.  And  the  residue  thereof  he  maketh  à  god,  even 
his  graven  image  ;  he  falleth  down  to  it,  and  wor- 
shippeth  it,  and  prayeth  unto  it,  and  saith.  Deliver 
me,  for  thou  art  my  god.     They  have  not  known  nor 


The  Sermon  shotud  be  Plain.  177 

understood,  for  he  hath  shut  their  eyes  that  they  can- 
not see,  and  their  hearts  that  they  cannot  understand. 
And  none  considereth  in  his  heart,  neither  is  there 
knowledge  nor  understanding  to  say,  I  have  burned 
part  of  it  in  the  fire  ;  yea,  also  I  have  baked  bread 
upon  the  coals  thereof;  I  have  roasted  flesh  and 
eaten  it  ;  and  shall  I  make  the  residue  thereof  an 
abomination  ?  Shall  I  fall  down  to  the  stock  of  a 
tree  ?  He  feedeth  on  ashes  ;  a  deceived  heart  hath 
turned  him  aside,  that  he  cannot  deliver  his  soul,  nor 
say.  Is  there  not  a  lie  in  my  right  hand  ?" 

Père  Lejeune,  apart  from  certain  quaint  and  obso- 
lete modes  of  expression,  has  some  charming  things 
of  this  sort,  which  must  have  produced  a  marvellous 
effect.  He  is  attempting  to  point  out  the  heinousness 
of  sin,  and  to  describe  the  punishment  of  Adam  and 
Eve  : — 

"  Picture  to  yourselves,  then,  the  unfortunate  pair, 
staff  in  hand,  going  forth  from  the  earthly  paradise, 
carrying  nothing  with  them  but  two  skins,  given  them 
out  of  compassion  by  the  Judge,  to  cover  their  naked- 
ness. They  found  themselves  in  the  fields  as  if  they 
had  fallen  from  the  clouds,  exposed  to  the  inclemency 
of  the  weather,  to  wild  beasts,  and  to  their  own  natural 
infirmities,  without  shelter,  bed,  linen,  bread,  covering 
for  their  hands  or  feet  ;  without  thread  or  needle, 
knife  or  hammer,  destitute  of  any  implements  beyond 
their  own  feeble  arms.     They  collect  stones  as  best 


178  TJie  Cle7'gy  and  the  Pulpit. 

they  may,  and  cement  them  together  with  mud  to 
form  a  low  room,  and  cover  it  with  branches  of  trees, 
which  they  are  obHged  to  break  off  with  their  hands  ; 
for  they  had  neither  saw  nor  hatchet.  They  gather 
leaves  for  their  couch,  and  fruits  and  wheat  for  their 
subsistence  ;  but  if  they  wanted  any  in  years  to  come, 
they  must  till  the  ground,  or  rather  they  must  dig  it 
up  with  sticks,  having  no  other  kind  of  spade.  Think, 
then,  of  the  woman,  and  of  the  straits  to  which  she 
must  have  been  put  on  being  seized  with  the  pangs  of 
labor,  which  she  had  never  before  experienced,  and 
on  being  confined  with  her  first  child.  When  she  saw 
her  firstborn  ushered  into  the  world  in  its  natural  state, 
moaning  and  trembling  with  the  cold,  and  found  her- 
self utterly  destitute  of  linen,  cradle,  cap,  bandages, 
and  all  the  other  requisites  for  a  new-born  babe, — 
when  she  was  called  to  bear  all  this,  how  poignantly 
she  must  have  recognized  the  enormity  of  her  ofience  ! 
"But  when  both  parents  saw  their  son  Abel,  a 
youth  as  beautiful  as  a  star,  gentle  as  a  lamb,  and 
devout  as  an  angel,  stretched  stark  dead  upon  the 
ground,  wounded  and  weltering  in  his  blood,  a  ghastly 
spectacle  to  behold  ;  the  bloom  on  his  face  gone,  his 
lips  livid,  the  light  of  his  eyes  utterly  extinguished, — 
on  first  beholding  all  this,  they  could  have  no  idea 
that  he  was  dead,  for  they  had  never  witnessed  death  ; 
but  drawing  near  they  say: — 'Abel,  what  dost  thou 
here }    Who  hath  done  this  ?'     The  dead  are  silent. 


TJie  Sermon  sho2ild  be  Plain.  179 

*  My  beloved  Abel,  why  speakest  thou  not  ?  My  son  \ 
my  soul  !  I  pray  thee  speak  ?'  But  Abel  has  no  more 
words,  no  more  voice,  no  sight,  no  motion.  Decay 
soon  sets  in,  and  Abel  becomes  foul  and  corrupt,  and 
father  and  mother  are  obliged  to  cover  him  with  earth. 
When  at  length  they  learn  that  it  was  their  sin  which 
had  given  entrance  to  death,  what  grief,  what  tears^ 
what  anger  against  the  fatal  tree,  against  the  tempter, 
against  themselves,  and  against  everything  which  had 
contributed  to  their  disobedience,  must  have  agitated 
the  wretched  pair  !  Why  did  we  pluck  of  that  tree  .^ 
Why  did  we  not  burn  it  rather  than  be  tempted  to 
gather  its  fruit  .'*  Why  did  we  not  quit  the  earthly 
paradise,  and  flee  to  the  end  of  the  world  to  avoid  the 
risk  of  so  tremendous  an  evil }  Why  did  I  not  pluck 
out  my  eyes  rather  than  look  upon  that  which  I  was 
forbidden  to  know  }  Ill-advised  that  I  was,  why  did 
I  suffer  myself  to  be  amused  with  talking  to  the  ser- 
pent }  Liar,  thou  didst  assure  me  that  we  should  be 
as  gods,  and  behold  we  are  more  humiliated  and 
miserable  than  the  beasts  of  the  field  ! 

"  In  like  manner,  when  you  are  in  hell,  you  will 
regret,  and  lament,  and  resolve  ;  but  it  will  then  be 
too  late.  You  will  be  maddened  with  spite  and  rage 
against  everything  that  has  conspired  to  your  condem- 
nation. Alas  !  why  did  I  not  cut  out  my  tongue 
when  preachers  told  me  that  my  oaths  would  damn 
me  ?     Why  did  I  not  smite  to  death  this  scandalous 


i8o  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

bosom  of  mine  ?  Why  did  I  not  destroy  the  papers 
of  that  lawsuit  which  I  prosecuted  so  unjustly,  and 
the  schedule  and  bond  of  that  poor  man  who  could 
not  pay  the  usurious  interest  which  I  charged  him 
for  money  lent  ?  Why  did  I  not  leave  the  town  and 
province,  and  bury  myself  in  the  wilds  of  Canada, 
rather  than  remain  where  there  was  an  occasion  of 
my  falling  into  sin  ?" 

In  concluding,  I  must  be  permitted  to  quote  a 
more  recent  example,  premising  that  I  only  adduce  it 
as  a  model  of  familiar  conversation  with  the  working 
classes. 

M.  l'Abbé  Ledreuil,  in  an  address  to  operatives, 
is  endeavoring  to  convince  them  that  they  have  no 
reason  to  envy  the  rich,  since  the  working  man  has 
his  share  of  joy  and  happiness  as  well  as  they.  He 
expresses  himself  somewhat  as  follows,  though  I  must 
apologize  for  abridging,  and  therefore  for  disfiguring 
his  lecture  : — 

"  My  friends,  do  not  envy  the  rich,  and  don't  be- 
lieve them  happy  because  they  have  nothing  to  do. 
The  rich  must  work,  after  their  fashion,  under  pain  of 
being  unhappy  and  of  leading  a  miserable  existence. 
Hence  it  is  that,  for  the  most  part,  they  condemn 
themselves  to  work  as  you  do.  .  .  .  And  do  you 
know  how  one  of  this  class  passes  his  life  who  does 
not  work .?  I  will  tell  you  :  he  thinks  everything  a 
bore,  and  he  yawns. 


The  Sermon  should  be  Plaiit.  i8l 

"  In  the  morning,  he  no  sooner  begins  to  dress  than 
he  stops  short.  He  is  so  tired  !  He  stretches  his 
limbs,  and — he  yav/ns. 

"  He  next  sets  about  his  toilet,  which  is  a  very 
formidable  affair  to  him  ;  enters  into  his  dressing- 
room — quite  a  perfumery  shop  in  its  Avay — looks 
around  him,  and  then — he  yawns. 

"  Breakfast-time  comes.  He  goes  to  the  breakfast- 
room,  surveys  the  different  dishes,  knows  not  which 
to  choose,  for  the  poor  man  is  not  hungry,  and — he 
yawns. 

"  After  breakfast,  he  takes  up  a  paper  and  skims 
over  it.  Pugh  !  politics  are  so  uninteresting.  Then 
more  than  ever — he  yawns. 

"  Toward  noon,  or  one  o'clock,  he  must  go  out,  and 
asks  himself:  Where  shall  I  go  to-day  .^  Shall  I  go 
to  Madame  So-and-so  1  No,  she  is  at  the  waters.  I 
will  go  to  Mr.  So-and-so.  By  the  way,  he  is  in  the 
country  ;  and  then — he  yawns. 

"  For  something  better  to  do,  he  seeks  the  prom- 
enade, where  he  meets  a  friend  of  his  own  stamp. 
They  shake  the  tips  of  each  other's  fingers,  not  to 
hurt  their  hands,  touch  the  brims  of  their  hats,  and 
then  together,  one  more  than  the  other, — they  yawn. 

"  He  next  takes  a  chair,  adjusts  his  feet  on  the  bars, 
places  himself  at  his  ease,  thinks  of  nothing,  looks 
vacantly  into  the  air,  or  bites  the  head  of  his  cane, 
and  then — he  yawns. 


1 82  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

"  In  the  evening  he  goes  to  the  theatre,  extends 
himself  at  full  length  in  his  box,  gazes  around  him, 
listens,  and  then — he  yawns. 

"  He  returns  home  very  late.  He  is  quite  worn 
out  and  needs  sleep,  and  ends  the  day  as  he  began  it 
— he  yawns. 

"  Not  so  the  laborer  :  he  rises  early,  goes  to  his 
work  betimes,  and  he  sings  or  whistles. 

"  The  breakfast-hour  arrives.  He  loses  no  time  in 
examining  which  dish  he  will  partake  of,  for  there  is 
only  one.  He  does  not  yawn  over  it,  but  eats  with  a 
good  appetite,  and  in  the  same  cheery  mood  he  passes 
the  remainder  of  the  day. 

"  My  friends,  don't  be  discontented  with  your  lot. 
Don't  say  : — '  If  I  were  rich  I  would  take  my  ease  ;' 
for  work  is  a  blessing.  Don't  envy  the  rich,  but  be 
thankful  for  what  God  has  given  you.  The  honest 
and  industrious  workman,  who  has  a  good  heart,  and 
loves  virtue,  is  the  spoilt  child  of  Providence." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   SERMON   SHOULD   BE   SHORT. 

The  Discourses  of  the  Fathers  were  short — The  French  Mind  is  quick 
to  apprehend — Sermons  are  generally  too  long  —  Sermons  of 
Ten,  Seven,  and  of  Five  Minutes. 

"  Long  sermons  bore  us,"*  says  M.  de  Cormenin  ; 
"  and  when  a  Frenchman  is  bored,  he  leaves  the  place 
and  goes  away.  If  he  cannot  so  retire,  he  remains 
and  talks.  If  he  cannot  talk,  he  yawns  and  falls 
asleep.  Anyhow,  he  declares  that  he  will  not  come 
again.     .     .     ." 

The  sermon  should  be  short.  At  all  events,  it 
must  not  bore.  Bore  or  ennui  is  fatal  in  France,  and 
is  never  pardoned.  It  has  been  said,  there  are  two 
things  which  are  not  permitted  in  France,  namely,  to 
ridicule  and  to  bore.  Unhappily  the  former  is  al- 
lowed nowadays,  for  there  are  many  who  use  it,  and 

*  "  Nous  ennuient^''  It  is  useless  to  attempt  giving  the  full  force 
of  the  French  emmi  in  any  one  English  word.  That  above  adopted 
appears  to  me  the  nearest  approach  to  it  which  our  language  affords  ; 
still  it  comes  far  short  of  the  expressive  original. — Translator. 


1 84  The  Clergy  and  the  Ptilpit 

many  who  abuse  it  ;  but  on  the  article  of  bore 
society  is  still  inflexible  and  implacable.  The  man 
who  is  deemed  a  bore  is  shunned  and  detested.  .  .  . 
We,  the  clergy,  must  beware  of  exciting  this  antipa- 
thy on  the  score  of  religion  ;  the  more  so,  because 
most  minds  secrete  a  stock  of  the  sentiment,  which  is 
readily  called  forth  when  they  are  brought  in  con- 
tact with  any  thing  serious. 

On  the  other  hand,  why  preach  so  long  1  I  know 
not  how  we  have  allowed  ourselves  to  be  led  into 
these  lengthy  discourses.  What  is  the  good  of  it  t 
What  is  the  object  1  We  speak  in  God's  name. 
Now,  power  and  majesty  are  always  chary  of  words  ; 
yet  such  words  are  not  the  less  efficacious  for  being 
few.  The  instructions  of  our  blessed  Lord,  who  is 
the  Divine  Master  of  us  all,  were  uniformly  short. 
Even  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  which  has  revolu- 
tionized the  world,  does  not  appear  to  have  lasted 
more  than  half  an  hour.  The  homilies  of  the  Fathers 
also  were  short,  and  Saint  Ambrose  says  : — "  Nee 
nimiiim  prolixîis  sit  sermo  ne  fastidiitm  pariât  ;  semi- 
horœ  tempiis  coninitmiter  non  excédât!'  Saint  François 
de  Sales,  too,  recommends  short  sermons,  and  re- 
marks that  excessive  length  was  the  general  fault  in 
the  preachers  of  his  time. 

He  says  : — "  The  good  Saint  Francois,  in  his  rules 
to  the  preachers  of  his  Order,  directs  that  their  ser- 
mons should  be  short. 


The  Sermon  sJiould  be  Short.  185 

"Believe  me,  and  I  s-peak  from  experience,  the 
more  you  say,  the  less  will  the  hearers  retain  ;  the 
less  you  say,  the  more  they  will  profit.  By  dint  of 
burdening  their  memory,  you  will  overwhelm  it  ;  just 
as  a  lamp  is  extinguished  by  feeding  it  with  too 
much  oil,  and  plants  are  choked  by  immoderate 
irrigation. 

"  When  a  sermon  is  too  long,  the  end  erases  the 
middle  from  the  memory,  and  the  middle  the  begin- 
ning. 

"Even  mediocre  preachers  are  acceptable,  pro- 
vided their  discourses  are  short  ;  whereas  even  the 
best  preachers  are  a  burden  when  they  speak  too 
long." 

Is  not  long  preaching  very  much  like  an  attempt 
to  surpass  these  men,  who  were  so  highly  imbued 
with  the  spirit  of  Christianity  1 

On  the  other  hand,  we  have  to  deal  with  the  most 
intelligent,  keen,  and  sensible  people  in  the  world. 
They  understand  a  thing  when  only  half  stated,  and 
very  often  divine  it.  You  hardly  speak  before  they 
are  moved  to  accept  or  to  reject  ;  and  yet  we  over- 
charge them  with  long  and  heavy  dissertations.  To 
act  in  this  way,  is  to  evince  an  utter  unacquaintance 
with  one's  people,  and  to  display  our  own  ignorance, 
in  spite  of  all  the  learning  which  we  may  possess. 
Moreover,  it  tends  to  excite  antipathy.  The  French- 
man does  not  care  to  be  treated  like  a  German  :  he 


1 86  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

does  not  wish  to  be  told  every  thing,  thereby  depriv- 
ing him  of  the  pleasure  of  working  out  the  truth  for 
himself  Open  the  vein,  lance  his  imagination  and 
feelings,  let  them  flow  on  the  road  to  truth,  and  he 
will  pursue  it  alone  ;  perchance  more  quickly  and 
further  than  you.  Nothing  impairs  intelligence,  senti- 
ment, and  the  effusion  of  thought  so  much  as  redun- 
dancy of  words  and  even  of  ideas. 

A  sharp  working  man,  who  had  been  listening  to 
a  sermon,  was  once  asked — 

"  What  did  the  preacher  say  }  What  do  you  re- 
member of  his  sermon  T 

"  Nothing  at  all." 

"  How's  that  1     Surely  you  heard  him  T 

"  Perfectly." 

"  How  is  it,  then,  that  you  did  not  understand  any 

thing  r 

"  Ah,"  replied  he,  in  an  original  language,  which 
only  the  people  can  command,  "  because  all  he  had 
to  say  was  hid  behind  a  mass  of  words." 

There  is  too  much  reminiscence  of  our  philosophical 
and  scholastic  studies  in  our  sermons.  It  often  ap- 
pears as  if  we  were  speaking  to  a  meeting  of  young 
bachelors  in  theology.  We  seem  to  believe — and  the 
notion  is  generally  taken  for  granted — that  we  have 
not  adequately  developed  an  idea  unless  we  discuss 
it  for  an  hour  or  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour  at  the 
least. 


The  Sermon  sîioidd  be  Short.  187 

Thus  the  audience  is  overwhelmed  under  the  weight 
of  a  ponderous  erudition.  It  is  not  sufficient  that 
they  should  have  one  proof  set  before  them,  they 
must  submit  to  any  conceivable  number  on  the  same 
subject.  Or,  to  use  M.  de  Cormenin's  language, 
preachers  keep  on  using  the  flat  side  of  their  sword 
with  weak  proofs,  after  they  have  given  a  decisive 
thrust  with  the  weapon's  point.  What  has  been  said 
a  thousand  times  before  is  repeated,  and  what  every- 
body knows,  or  what  nobody  needs  to  know,  is  dilated 
upon  to  no  purpose. 

A  man  must  be  endowed  with  extraordinary  genius 
who  can  bring  forcible  thoughts  to  bear  upon  one 
and  the  same  subject  for  the  space  of  a  whole  hour. 
But  this  consideration  does  not  appear  to  occasion 
the  least  embarrassment.  The  vacuities  of  thought 
are  filled  up  with  words,  and  that  is  called  developing 
an  idea. 

For  the  most  part,  we  are  all  convinced  that  others 
speak  too  long,  but  we  are  beguiled  by  the  world's 
flattery. 

We  preach,  and  people  are  delighted,  and  send 
intimations  to  us  that  we  have  acquitted  ourselves 
to  admiration  ;  that  they  would  gladly  have  listened 
to  us  much  longer,  and  so  forth. 

But  we  know  better  than  any  one  else  that  the 
world  does  not  always  speak  the  truth,  and  that  we 
ourselves  have  frequently  denounced  its  want  of  sin- 


1 88  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

cerity.  How  comes  it,  then,  that  we  are  deluded  by 
such  fine  speeches  ?  In  flattering  us,  the  world  sim- 
ply plies  its  trade  ;  but  it  is  our  duty  not  to  give  heed 
to  its  blandishments.  Moreover,  there  prevails  at 
present  a  strong  and  universal  conviction  that,  gene- 
rally speaking,  our  sermons  are  too  long. 

Ask  whom  you  please,  enemies  and  friends,  ask 
even  the  most  fervent  Christians — thanks  be  to  God 
there  are  intelHgent  men,  and  men  renowned  for  their 
charity  among  the  sincerely  religious  —  ask  them, 
I  say,  and  they  will  tell  you  that  our  sermons  and 
services  are  too  long.  And  if  pious  and  intelligent 
men  are  of  that  opinion,  what  must  the  masses 
think  > 

Undoubtedly,  the  intention  is  praiseworthy.  .  .  . 
We  aim  at  securing  a  greater  good  by  lengthening 
out  the  services  and  sermon.  Still,  it  is  equally 
certain  that  in  so  doing  we  discard  both  prudence 
and  charity.  It  resembles  the  ordinary  treatment  of 
wives,  who  insist  on  giving  their  sick  husbands  good 
strong  broth,  on  the  plea  that  it  will  do  them  more 
good  than  all  the  chemist's  medicines.  The  intention 
is  unquestionably  a  kind  one  ;  but  it  is  no  less  true 
that  the  regimen,  instead  of  benefiting  the  patients,  is 
most  likely  to  kill  them  outright.  Alas  !  the  same 
result  has  followed  a  similar  injudicious  treatment 
of  men's  souls. 

A  man  of  high  intellectual  attainments,  recentl)' 


The  Sermon  should  be  Short.  189 

converted,  declared  that  the  manner  in  which  he  was 
bored  by  sermons  during  his  youth,  had  kept  him 
from  Hstening  to  them  for  twenty  years.  We  com- 
plain, and  with  reason,  that  the  masses  have  ceased 
to  frequent  the  church,  and  that  sermons  nowadays 
are  not  popular.  But  do  not  we  assist  in  driving 
them  away  }  The  services  are  longer  now  than  they 
were  in  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries, 
when  there  was  more  faith  abroad  among  the  people 
generally. 

Religion  would  most  probably  be  greatly  promoted 
if  the  sermon  and  the  services  also  were  abridged. 
This  might  readily  be  affected  as  regards  the  latter. 
Pitch  your  music  out  of  the  window,  or  rather  out 
of  the  door,  as  the  former  might  not  be  considered 
parliamentary.  Or,  take  care  at  least  that  the  polkas 
with  which  your  organist  embellishes  the  Magnificat 
shall  not  occupy  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 
With  respect  to  the  sermons,  they  might  easily  be 
shortened  without  injuring  them  in  the  least.  Lop 
off  all  commonplace  considerations  from  the  exor- 
dium, all  useless  discussions  from  the  body  of  the 
discourse,  and  all  vague  phrases  from  the  peroration. 
Prune  away  all  redundant  words,  all  parasitical  epi- 
thets, using  only  those  that  triple  the  force  of  the 
substantive.  Be  chary  of  words  and  phrases  ;  econo- 
mize them  as  a  miser  does  his  crown-pieces.  The 
people  affect  those  thoughts  which  are  formulated  in 


190  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

a  single  word.  They  like  such  expressions  as  the 
following  : — vive  !  ,  .  .  à  bas  !  .  .  .  mort  ! 
.  .  .  vengeance  /  .  .  .  liberté  /  .  .  .  justice  ! 
These  simple  words  often  move  men  more  than  a  long 
discourse. 

In  this  respect,  however,  there  has  been  a  marked 
improvement  in  many  of  our  churches.  There  are 
parishes  in  Paris  where  a  rule  prevails  that  no  one 
shall  preach  more  than  forty  minutes.  In  some 
popular  meetings,  preachers  are  not  allowed  to  speak 
beyond  fifteen  minutes,  and  it  is  there  that  the  most 
good  is  done. 

Nowadays,  brevity  is  one  of  the  first  conditions  of 
success,  and  of  promoting  the  welfare  of  souls. 

The  preacher  who  was  most  frequented  at  Paris 
during  the  Lenten  season  this  year,  hardly  ever  ex- 
ceeded half-an-hour.  There  are,  undoubtedly,  many 
other  rules  to  be  observed,  but  brevity  will  not  injuri- 
ously affect  any  of  them. 

The  people  are  easily  impressed  :  they  like  to  be 
moved  ;  but  nothing  passes  away  so  quickly  as  an 
emotion.  In  order  to  bring  them  back  to  the  church, 
we  must  have  sermons  of  ten,  seven,  and  even  of  five 
minutes'  duration.  The  Mass  and  the  sermon  together 
should  not  exceed  half-an-hour. 

This  plan  has  been  attempted.  The  experiment 
was  made,  and  produced  the  most  happy  and  unex- 
pected results.     Intelligent  and  zealous  pastors,  dis- 


The  Sermon  should  be  Short.  191 

tressed  at  seeing  that  the  greater  part  of  their  flock 
scarcely  ever  heard  the  word  of  God  or  went  to 
church,  estabhshed  a  low  Mass,  announced  as  special- 
ly designed  for  the  men,  with  a  lecture  of  from  ten  to 
five  minutes'  duration  every  Sunday.  .  .  .  Crowds 
flocked  to  the  church,  which  was  sometimes  found  too 
small  to  hold  them.  Nor  was  this  all  :  many  attended 
high  Mass  also,  and  even  went  to  the  confessional  ; 
which  they  had  not  done,  some  for  twenty,  some  for 
thirty,  and  some  for  forty  years.  This  success  was 
obtained  in  irreligious  as  well  as  religious  districts, 
and  under  the  most  unfavorable  circumstances  ;  even 
in  populous  manufacturing  towns.  And  the  same 
plan  is  practicable  everywhere.  Frequently,  nothing 
more  is  required  than  a  man  to  take  the  initiative 
with  a  right  good  will,  in  order  to  attract  crowds  to 
the  church  and  to  religion. 

But  it  will  be  objected  :  What  can  be  said  in  ten  or 
seven  minutes  .''  Much,  much  more  than  is  generally 
thought,  when  due  preparation  is  made,  when  we  have 
a  good  knowledge  of  mankind,  and  are  well  versed  in 
religious  matters.  .  .  .  Have  not  a  few  words 
often  sufficed  to  revolutionize  multitudes,  and  to  pro- 
duce an  immense  impression  .-^ 

The   harangues   of  Napoleon    only  lasted   a  few  : 
minutes,  yet   they  electrified   whole   armies.      The 
speech  at  Bourdeaux  did  not  exceed  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  and  yet  it   resounded   throughout  the  world. 


192  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

Had  it  been  longer,  it  would  have  been  less  effective. 
In  fifteen  weeks,  with  a  sermon  of  seven  minutes 
every  Sunday,  one  might  give  a  complete  course  of 
religious  instruction,  if  the  sermons  were  well  digested 
beforehand.* 

If,  then,  you  wish  to  be  successful,  in  the  first  place 
fix  the  length  of  your  sermon,  and  never  go  beyond 
the  time  ;  be  inflexible  on  that  score.  Should  you 
exceed  it,  apologize  to  your  audience  for  so  doing,  and 
prove  in  the  pulpit  of  truth  that  you  can  be  faithful 
to  your  word. 

In  your  course  of  instruction,  do  not  follow  the  old 
method  which  commences  with  metaphysical  ques- 
tions and  principles  ;  but  adhere  to  the  plan  which 
we  have  indicated  :  start  from  the  known  to  the  un- 
known.    .     .     . 

In  the  first  place,  disconnect  religion  from  all  pre- 
judices and  passions,  and  from  every  thing  unconge- 
nial. Discard  all  objections  and  antagonisms.  Exhibit 
it  as  good  and  lovely,  then  true,  then  divine,  then  as 
obligatory,  proceeding  onward  from  thence  to  God's 
commandments  and  to  the  sacraments.  If  you  appre- 
hend that  the  term  "  God's  commandments  "  does  not 
sufficiently  strike  your  hearers,  you  may  call  them  the 
duties  of  an  upright  man. 

*  We  have  chosen  the  seven  minutes'  sermon,  because  experience 
has  taught  us  that  it  attracts  the  greatest  numbers. 


TJie  Sermon  should  be  Short.  193 

When  about  to  compose  your  sermon,  study  your 
subject  thoroughly,  grasp  the  salient  points,  and  then 
write.     .     .     . 

But  do  not  stop  there  ;  begin  afresh.  Supposing 
that  you  have  written  four  pages,  reduce  them  to  two, 
taking  care  that  all  the  strong  thoughts  and  sentiments 
remain.  .  .  .  Use  those  terms  which  belong  to  a 
single  thought,  those  expressions  which  imprint  them- 
selves— or,  as  the  Scripture  says,  engrave  the  truth  as 
with  a  pen  of  steel — on  the  hearts  of  men,  and  which 
scatter  it  abroad  full  of  life  and  exultation.  Nothing 
is  so  profitable  as  this  exercise  :  it  cultivates  and 
supplies  the  intellect,  gives  us  a  deeper  insight  into 
Christianity  and  mankind,  and  it  teaches  us  how  to 
think,  and  how  to  write.     .     . 

During  the  reading  of  the  Gospel,  ascend  the 
pulpit  and  be  quite  ready.  Place  your  watch  by  your 
side  and  begin  thus  : — "  Last  Sunday  we  said  so  and 
so.  To-day  we  continue."  .  .  .  Then  enter  fully 
into  your  subject,  enlightening  the  minds  of  your 
hearers  or  stirring  up  their  hearts  as  may  be  suitable, 
during  the  discourse.  When  the  allotted  time  ar- 
rives, stop  short  and  conclude. 

"  But  do  speak  more  at  length  .  .  .  you  are 
wrong  in  being  so  brief  .  .  .  you  only  tantalize 
your  audience  .  .  .  you  deprive  them  of  a  real 
pleasure."  Expostulations  like  these  will  pour  in 
upon  you  ;  but  don't  listen  to  them  :  be  inflexible,  for 


194  ^^^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

those  who  urge  them  are  enemies  without  knowing 
it.  Be  more  rigid  than  ever  in  observing  the  rule 
which  you  have  prescribed  for  yourself.  Then  your 
sermon  will  be  talked  of — it  will  be  a  phenomenon — 
every  body  will  come  to  see  a  sermon  of  seven  minutes' 
duration.  The  people  will  come  ;  the  rich  will  follow. 
Faith  will  bring  the  one,  and  curiosity  will  attract  the 
other,  and  thus  the  Divine  word  will  have  freer  course 
and  be  glorified.     .     .     . 

If  the  men  do  not  come,  appeal  to  the  women,  and 
ask  them  to  help  you.  If  you  want  to  attract  the 
women,  announce  that  you  intend  preaching  specially 
for  the  men.  You  will  find  this  method  infallible  ; 
the  men  will  follow. 

Moreover,  go  yourself  and  find  them  out  :  visit  the 
workshops,  factories,  and  wharves.  Be  particularly 
attentive  to  those  who  are  shabbily  dressed  and  ill- 
favored.  On  taking  your  departure,  tell  them  with 
a  smile  that  French  politeness — in  which  you  feel 
quite  sure  they  are  not  deficient —  demands  that  visits 
received  should  be  returned  :  that  you  will  dispense 
with  their  coming  to  you  personally,  but  will  expect 
to  see  them  at  the  seven  minutes'  sermon.  The  result 
will  not  disappoint  you. 

When  you  have  many  male  hearers,  you  should 
reserve  a  space  for  them.  The  women  will  complain 
that  thereby  they  are  placed  further  away  ;  but  you 
must  apDease  them  with  a  compliment.     Tell  them 


The  Sermon  sJwiild  be  Short.  195 

that  you  know  their  charity,  and  are  persuaded  that 
they  would  not  certainly  wish  to  hinder  the  word  of 
God  from  being  heard  by  those  who  need  it  most. 

When  you  have  well  cultivated  your  congregation, 
when  a  strong  current  of  sympathy  and  charity  has 
set  in  from  them  to  you  and  from  you  to  them,  when 
a  number  of  conversions  shall  have  been  made,  then 
you  may  thinbof  sending  some  of  them  to  high  Mass 
and  to  Vespers.  Don't  fail  to  felicitate  such  : — "  You 
have  come  hither  to  hear  me.  So  far  well,  and  I  am 
greatly  rejoiced  at  it.  Still  you  may  do  something 
better:  you  may  attend  high  Mass,"  adding  your 
reasons,  and  then  conclude  somewhat  in  this  style  : — 
"  Now,  I  hope  that  those  who  are  rightly  disposed  will 
attend  high  Mass.  I  only  want  the  badly  disposed, 
poor  downright  sinners,  at  my  sermons."  You  will 
be  obeyed  by  some,  and  you  will  thereby  do  much 
toward  repopularizing  religion  ;  and  when  those  who 
are  not  converted  fall  sick  they  will  say  : — "  Send  for 
the  man  who  preaches  the  seven  minutes'  sermon  ;  I 
don't  want  any  other."  Thus  God  will  be  blessed  and 
glorified.     .     .     . 

Here,  then,  you  have  a  very  simple  and  cheap 
means  of  restoring  the  people  to  religion.  It  may  be 
put  into  practice  everywhere  :  in  great  cities,  in  small 
towns,  and  even  in  hamlets.  The  subject  is  one  for 
serious  reflection.  Even  in  our  most  religiously  dis- 
posed towns,  hardly  a  third  of  the  inhabitants  habitu- 


196  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

ally  hear  the  word  of  God.  Elsewhere,  matters  are 
still  worse  ;  and  yet  all  are  sheep  of  the  same  Divine 
pastor,  all  have  a  soul  to  save.  Moreover,  according 
to  all  theologians,  every  parish  priest  of  a  cure  is  re- 
quired, sicb  gmvi,  to  preach  at  low  Mass,  whenever 
the  faithful  generally  do  not  attend  high  Mass.  Hence, 
by  pursuing  the  course  above  indicated,  we  may  not 
only  save  others  but  shall  also  exonerate  ourselves. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TACT  AND  KINDLINESS. 

We  should  assume  that  our  Hearers  are  what  we  wish  them  to  be^ 
Reproaches  to  be  avoided — How  to  address  Unbelievers — Special 
Precautions  to  be  taken  in  small  Towns  and  rural  Districts — How 
to  treat  Men  during  times  of  public  Commotion — Forbearance  due 
to  the  Church  for  being  obliged  to  receive  Money  from  the  Faithful. 

In  France,  it  is  not  enough  to  say  good  things,  they 
must  also  be  well  said.  This  remark  applies  to  all, 
but  more  especially  to  him  who  speaks  in  behalf  of  the 
Gospel  ;  for  he  is  bound  to  follow  the  Divine  injunc- 
tion : — "  Be  ye  wise  as  serpents,  and  harmless  as 
doves  ;"  which  I  should  prefer  to  see  carried  out  as 
commented  upon  by  St.  François  de  Sales  : — "  Ah  ! 
my  dear  Philothea,  I  would  give  a  hundred  serpents 
for  one  dove." 

It  is  especially  in  this  respect  that  we  should 
endeavor  to  reduce  to  practice  what  has  already  been 
advanced  on  the  importance  of  becoming  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  people,  and  the  necessity  of 
loving  them  in  order  to  our  being  qualified  to  address 
them  to  good   purpose.     We  must  make   ourselves 


198  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

Sisters  of  Charity  to  the  souls  of  men  ;  having  all 
their  pliancy  and  kindness,  so  as  to  be  capable  of  con- 
forming ourselves  to  those  light,  weak,  vain,  and  fickle 
characters — to  say  nothing  of  the  suspicious  and 
malevolent — with  whom  we  may  have  to  deal.  Our 
age  is  arrayed  in  prejudices  from  head  to  foot,  and  no 
sooner  is  one  destroyed  than  another  is  ready  to  take 
its  place. 

For  the  most  part,  a  great  mistake  is  made  as 
regards  this  necessity  of  exercising  tact  in  our  inter- 
course with  the  people.  It  is  remarked  : — "  We  have 
to  do  with  little  people,  such  circumspection  is  there- 
fore uncalled  for.  Why  should  we  give  ourselves  so 
much  trouble  on  their  account  T  Very  true  ;  but 
little  people  are  often  very  susceptible  people  every- 
where; not  among  the  laity  only,  but  among  the 
clergy  likewise. 

The  people  have  certain  formalities,  courtesies,  and 
politenesses  of  their  own  which  we  should  learn  to 
respect,  for  when  once  outraged,  they  are  more  diffi- 
cult to  be  appeased  than  the  educated  and  genteel 
classes.  Complaints  are  often  made  of  our  congrega- 
tions; but  have  they  not  sometimes  cause  on  their 
part  to  complain  of  their  preachers }  .  .  .  Are  these 
latter  always  prudent  and  conciliatory  in  their  mode 
of  procedure }  And  yet  success  depends  on  this 
mixture  of  tact  and  kindliness. 

In  our  sermons,  we  should  start  with  assuming  that 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  199 

the  people  are  what  we  wish  them  to  be  ;  thereby 
raising  them  in  their  own  estimation,  and  laying  hold 
of  them  by  their  better  part.  .  .  .  You  will  then  feel 
yourself  quite  at  ease,  and  in  spite  of  any  desire  on 
the  part  of  your  hearers  to  oppose  you,  they  will  be 
restrained  from  doing  so  by  an  exquisite  sentiment 
of  respect. 

A  religieux  who  was  engaged  on  a  mission  in  a 
rural  district,  had  announced  that  a  particular  gallery, 
which  had  previously  been  occupied  by  the  men, 
would  in  future  be  reserved  for  the  ladies  forming 
the  choir.  Now,  the  men  were  much  attached  to  the 
said  gallery,  and  were  determined  to  keep  it.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  day  after,  long  before  the  sermon,  they 
installed  themselves  in  it  as  usual. 

On  ascending  the  pulpit,  the  preacher  noticed  that 
his  directions  had  not  been  attended  to.  What  would 
he  do  t  Command  or  scold  t  A  vulgar  man  might 
have  done  so  under  the  circumstances,  but  he  got 
over  the  difficulty  by  a  compliment. 

Turning  toward  the  occupants  of  the  gallery,  he 
addressed  them  in  a  kindly  tone  as  follows  : — "  My 
dear  friends,  you  are  aware  that  the  gallery  was  set 
apart  for  the  ladies.  Now,  French  politeness  calls 
upon  us  always  to  give  place  to  the  ladies,  and  not  to 
deprive  them  of  it.  From  what  I  already  know  of 
you,  I  feel  persuaded  that  you  will  not  be  behindhand 
in  that  respect."  ..."  We  have  put  our  foot  into  it," 


200  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

whispered  the  men  one  to  another  ;  '"'  and  can  hold 
out  no  longer.  Ah  !  the  crafty  fellow,  he  has  out- 
witted us,  and  we  must  go."  The  gallery  was  evacu- 
ated forthwith  and  made  over  to  the  ladies  ;  to  the 
satisfaction  of  all,  even  of  those  who  had  been  worst- 
ed in  the  affair.  That  is  the  way  to  deal  with  th-e 
people.  The  preacher  might  have  asserted  his  ab- 
solute authority  on  the  occasion  ;  but,  like  a  wise 
man,  he  preferred  the  exercise  of  prudence  and  cha- 
rity. 

We  repeat  it  :  the  most  effectual  way  of  commu- 
nicating the  truth  to  the  people,  of  putting  them  in 
the  right  way,  and  of  reforming  them,  is  not  to  be 
chary  of  complimenting  them  when  they  have  de- 
served it  ever  so  little  ;  and  to  show  that  we  have 
confidence  in  them.  This  course  tends  to  gladden 
their  souls  ;  disposes  them  to  what  is  good,  exalts, 
elates  them.  It  should  never  be  neglected,  for  it  is  ca- 
pable of  transforming  the  most  obstinate  characters. 
Subsequent  to  the  revolution  of  1848,  an  associa- 
tion of  unemployed  operatives  was  formed  at  the 
church  of  the  Carmelites  ;  amongst  whom  was  a  num- 
ber of  sharpers,  makers  of  barricades,  and  workmen 
always  on  the  look-out  for  work — men  clothed  in 
rags  and  in  a  state  of  complete  destitution.  There 
were  about  twelve  hundred  of  them.  A  meal  was 
first  served  out  to  them,  which  was  followed  by  a 
lecture. 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  201 

The  priests  who  addressed  them  soon  acquired  an 
irresistible  ascendency  over  this  formidable  body  ;  so 
much  so  that  certain  parties  took  umbrage  at  it,  as  a 
dangerous  power  to  be  wielded  by  the  clergy,  and 
accordingly  hired  a  set  of  roughs  to  hiss  and  other- 
wise disturb  the  congregation. 

The  preacher,  who  was  apprised  of  this  on  entering 
the  pulpit,  did  not  manifest  the  least  discomposure. 
Before  beginning  the  sermon,  however,  he  looked 
round  upon  the  sinister  figures  and  tattered  habili- 
ments of  his  hearers  with  a  benevolent  countenance, 
and  then  said  in  a  sonorous  voice  : — "  What  a  pleasant 
meeting  this  is,  my  friends  !  What  an  excellent 
audience  !  what  silence  !  what  attention  !  Therein  I 
recognize  the  people.  .  .  .  Père  Lacordaire  preaches 
at  Notre-Dame  to  the  noble  and  wealthy,  and  it  is 
found  necessary  to  station  constables  there  to  main- 
tain  order.  .  .  .  None  but  men  of  the  people  are 
here,  and  yet  we  have  no  constables  amongst  us.  We 
do  not  want  them,  for  the  people  are  their  own  police  ; 
the  people  are  discreet.".     .     .     . 

He  then  delivered  his  sermon,  which  was  listened 
to  amidst  the  most  profound  silence.  Never  was  an 
audience  of  nuns  more  attentive  than  those  men  ; 
their  deportment  was  admirable.  The  roughs  took 
the  hint,  saw  that  their  game  was  up,  and  that  those 
who  had  engaged  them  would  lose  their  money. 
They  accordingly  moved  toward  the  door. 


202  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

When  the  sermon  was  over,  however,  a  few  hisses 
were  attempted  ;  but  fifty  stalwart  arms  instantly 
seized  the  intruders,  and  administered  a  castigation 
to  them  which  was  by  no  means  fraternal. 

By  laying  hold  of  men  in  this  manner  we  may  lead 
them  onward  a  great  way  on  the  road  to  improve- 
ment.    .     .     . 

One  should  be  very  cautious  not  to  assume  that 
his  hearers  are  wicked,  impious,  or  unbelieving.  The 
people  do  not  relish  such  imputations  :  they  don't 
like  reproaches  ;  neither  do  you,  dear  reader.  They 
rarely  do  any  good,  and  often  much  harm. 

If  it  is  deemed  desirable  to  censure  a  fault,  a  vice, 
or  a  scandal,  such  delinquencies  may  be  treated  of 
in  a  general  way,  and  energetically  denounced.  In 
applying  the  lesson  to  your  hearers,  you  might  say 
in  a  subdued  tone — "Malpractices  like  these  are 
committed  elsewhere.  It  is  even  stated  that  you  are 
not  wholly  free  from  them  ;  but  perhaps  it  is  only 
the  malevolent  who  say  this  of  you.  However,  if  you 
have  really  been  guilty  of  them,  I  am  sure  you  will 
abandon  them  in  future.  It  is  always  a  duty  to 
prove  that  the  malevolent  are  in  the  wrong."  You 
may  further  add  : — "  I  will  do  you  this  justice,  that 
whenever  I  have  given  you  any  advice,  I  have  always 
had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  that  some  at  least  have 
profited  by  it." 

It  shows  a  want  of  charity  as  well  as  tact — and  it 


Tact  and  Kindliness,  203 

is,  moreover,  deplorably  vulgar — to  address  a  congre- 
gation in  such  a  style  as  the  following  : — "  All  my 
preaching,  and  all  the  trouble  which  I  take  in  your 
behalf  are  in  vain,  for  you  are  not  a  whit  better. 
Faith  is  departing  from  France.  ...  I  must  abandon 
you  to  your  fate.  No  matter  how  I  preach,  none  the 
more  come  to  the  sermons."  ...  I  say  this  mode  of 
address  is  as  vulgar  and  contemptible  as  it  is  deroga- 
tory to  the  minister  of  the  Gospel.  Saint  John 
Chrysostom,  as  already  remarked,  did  not  talk  in 
that  style  : — "  If  you  reject  my  words,"  said  he,  "  I 
shall  not  shake  off  the  dust  of  my  feet  against  you. 
Not  that  herein  I  would  disobey  the  Saviour  ;  but  be- 
cause the  love  which  He  has  given  me  for  you  pre- 
vents my  doing  so."     .     .     . 

If  sermons  are  not  attended,  whose  fault  is  it  1  It 
is  our  duty  to  look  into  that  question.  At  all  events, 
if  only  a  few  come  it  is  not  certainly  their  fault,  and 
therefore  they  should  be  spared  all  reproaches  ; 
otherwise  some  captious  hearer — and  such  are  to  be 
met  with  everywhere — may  slip  into  a  corner  of  the 
pulpit,  and  say  : — "  Take  care,  Mr.  Preacher  ;  you  are 
speaking  ill  of  the  absent,  and  you  know  better  than 
I  do  that  such  a  proceeding  is  improper."     .     .     . 

If  your  audience  is  scanty,  I  can  quite  fancy  that 
you  would  like  to  comment  upon  it,  and  also  to  ex- 
press a  little  annoyance  at  the  fact  ;  but  you  may  do 
something  better.     Begin   by  congratulating   those 


204  '^^^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

who  are  present,  thank  them  heartily  for  coming  to 
listen  to  you,  and  tell  them  afterward,  in  an  affec- 
tionate manner,  that  it  would  be  a  praiseworthy  act 
if  they  could  induce  one  or  two  of  their  comrades  to 
accompany  them  to  the  next  meeting.  Instead  of 
uttering  reproaches  against  the  erring  absentees, 
which  your  hearers  might  report  to  them,  charge 
the  latter  to  communicate  words  of  kindness  to 
them  : — 

"  Tell  those  dear  brethren  who  do  not  attend  the 
lectures,  that  we  bear  them  no  ill-will  ;  that  we  love 
all  of  them  ;  that  they  too  are  our  children  ;  and  that 
we  never  cease  praying  for  them."  Thereby  all  will 
be  edified,  and  God  will  be  less  offended.     .     .     . 

Further,  it  is  highly  imprudent  to  say  to  one's  au- 
dience : — "  I  have  preached  to  you  a  long  time,  and  yet 
you  are  still  the  same  :  I  see  no  improvement  in  you. 
On  the  contrary,  evil  increases  every  year.  I  wash 
my  hands  of  you  ;  you  will  be  lost  :  you  will  be 
damned."  .  .  .  Now,  the  people  do  not  like  to  be 
damned,  or  to  be  discouraged.  Besides,  such  a  course 
is  highly  dangerous.  .  .  .  Might  they  not  say  : — 
"  As  it  seems  that  we  are  damned  already,  let  us  at 
least  enjoy  life  while  it  lasts."  Moreover,  may  there 
not  still  be  a  portion  for  the  pastor,  even  from  among 
the  erring  flock  1 

A  pastor  once  recapitulated  in  the  pulpit  the  re- 
sults of  his  ministrations  in  this  language  : — "  My 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  205 

time  is  thrown  away  upon  you,  for  you  become  more 
and  more  ungodly. 

"  The  first  year  of  my  cure  there  were  only  five 
persons  who  did  not  communicate  at  Easter. 

"  The  second  year  there  were  eleven. 

"  The  third  year  there  were  thirty. 

"  And  the  number  has  gone  on  increasing,  so  that 
at  present  there  are  eighty  non-communicants."  After 
Mass,  a  mischievous  peasant  approached  the'  speaker, 
and  said,  in  a  low  voice  : — "  Monsieur  le  Curé,  take  my 
advice,  and  don't  make  so  much  stir  about  this  matter. 
According  to  your  own  testimony,  we  were  in  a  satis- 
factory condition  when  you  took  charge  of  us,  so  that 
we  must  have  deteriorated  under  your  reign!'   .     .     . 

Neither  should  such  commonplace  and  infelicitous 
remarks  as  the  following  be  made  : — "  Faith  is  de- 
parting from  among  men.  .  .  .  Hell  is  let  loose 
on  earth  ;  .  .  .  every  body  is  abandoning  religion  ;" 
.  .  .  for  observations  like  these  only  tend  to  induce 
others  to  abandon  it  ;  and  the  people  will  hardly  feel 
disposed  to  practise  a  religion  which  the  rest  of  the 
world  is  alleged  to  be  giving  up.  They  would  rather 
prefer  being  lost  with  the  multitude. 

On  the  contrary,  you  should  say  something  to  this 
effect, — *^  Go  to  !  faith  is  not  extinct,  for  there  are 
many  godly  men  to  be  found  in  all  ranks  of  so- 
ciety. You  would  be  convinced  of  this  if  you  only 
knew  what  takes   place  in  our  large  towns,  where 


2o6  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

numbers  of  the  young,  the  rich,  and  the  learned  be- 
longing to  the  higher  classes,  and  others  occupying 
distinguished  positions,  may  be  seen  devoutly  fre- 
quenting the  services  of  the  church,  partaking  of  the 
holy  communion,  visiting  the  poor,  and  practising 
confession  with  the  docility  of  little  children.  More- 
over, what  exemplary  women  there  are  amongst  us  !" 
.  .  .  You  might  then  add  : — "  Brethren,  we  should 
strive  to  imitate  such  men,  and  should  not  allow  our- 
selves to  be  outdone  by  them."  Representations  like 
these  will  induce  the  people  to  think  more  highly  of 
religion,  and  will  make  it  more  attractive  to  them. 

We  have  already  discussed  the  most  appropriate 
method  of  warning  the  people  against  the  bad  example 
and  pernicious  talk  of  those  who  affect  infidelity  ;  but 
a  few  additional  remarks  may  not  be  out  of  place  here. 

In  general,  we  should  not  evince  any  fear  of  such 
antagonism,  nor  attach  much  importance  to  it.  We 
should  rather  cause  the  impression  to  be  produced 
that  God  having  bestowed  mind  and  talent  upon 
mankind,  is  a  proof  that  He  can  be  in  no  dread  of 
those  endowments. 

Above  all,  we  should  lay  great  stress  on  such  re- 
flections as  these  : — that  those  who  call  themselves 
unbelievers  are,  in  fact,  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  are 
better  than  their  words  would  imply  ;  although,  per- 
chance, they  might  not  be  greatly  disappointed  if 
they  could  attain  to  infidelity  ;  that  they  have  as  good 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  207 

reason  for  fearing  hell  as  others  have  of  being  in  dread 
of  the  police  ;  and  that  by  dint  of  repeating  that  they 
are  unbelievers,  they  have  been  led  to  imagine  that 
they  are  so  in  reality. 

You  might  liken  them  to  some  of  those  old  soldiers 
of  the  empire,  who,  from  having  travelled  a  good  deal 
in  foreign  countries,  are  generally  allowed  the  license 
of  embellishing  and  even  of  inventing  a  little.  As 
every  body  knows,  they  make  free  use  of  the  privilege, 
and  concoct  a  number  of  tales  wherein  they  them- 
selves are  made  to  play  a  prominent  part.  These 
they  repeat  incessantly,  until  at  length  they  succeed 
in  persuading  themselves  that  such  stories  are  true, 
and  that  the  incidents  actually  occurred  as  they  have 
narrated  them.  .  .  .  It  is  the  same  with  those 
who  wish  to  pass  themselves  off  as  unbelievers. 
Hence  we  should  not  allow  ourselves  to  be  moved  by 
their  words  ;  for  at  heart  they  are  better  men  and 
nearer  to  God  than  is  thought,  and  you  should  insist 
on  the  duty  of  praying  for  them.  If  you  pursue  this 
course,  none  will  be  hurt  or  offended,  and  the  wives, 
daughters,  or  mothers  of  these  pretended  unbelievers 
will  return  home  from  your  sermons  happier  at  the 
thought  that  all  hope  for  those  whom  they  love  is  not 
wholly  lost. 

The  sterner  the  truths  which  you  have  to  set 
forth,  the  more  should  tact  and  kindliness  be  brought 
into  play,  that  the  souls  of  the  hearers  be  not  depress- 


208  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

ed.  This,  however,  is  a  very  common  error.  We 
are  terrible  in  the  pulpit  ;  we  thunder  and  storm 
there  ;  whereas  in  the  confessional  we  are  gentle  and 
paternal.  That  was  all  well  enough  in  times  of  faith  ; 
but  an  entirely  different  course  is  called  for  nowadays, 
otherwise  you  will  estrange  the  hearts  of  your  people. 
Be  paternal  in  the  pulpit,  be  paternal  in  the  confes- 
sional as  well  ;  but  at  the  same  time  uncompromising 
in  your  principles.  There  are  many  things  which 
terrify  at  a  distance,  but  which,  nevertheless,  are 
readily  assented  to  in  the  familiar  intercourse  of  the 
confessional. 

We  sometimes  hear  such  language  as  this,  uttered 
in  a  tone  of  great  self-conceit,  after  a  long  tirade  or 
vehement  declamation  : — "  I  have  driven  them  into  a 
corner.  I  have  now  fairly  crushed  them."  You  have 
crushed  them,  have  you }  So  much  the  worse,  for  in 
so  doing  you  have  altogether  misapprehended  your 
duty.  God  has  not  called  you  to  crush  men,  but  to 
raise  and  save  them.  Moreover,  there  is  much  cause 
to  fear  that  those  whom  you  have  crushed  will  not 
run  the  less  eagerly  in  the  way  of  evil. 

Hence  all  strong  admonitions  should  be  tempered 
with  such  deprecations  as  these  : — "  Brethren,  why 
am  I  constrained  to  tell  you  these  stern  truths  .''  You 
will  pardon  me  for  doing  so,  because  it  is  my  duty. 
It  pains  me  as  much  as  it  does  you  to  have  to  say 
them."     Or,  something  to  this  effect  : — "  If  I  wished 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  209 

to  pain  you,  or  if  it  was  not  rather  my  heart's  desire 
to  spare  you,  or  if  I  did  not  love  you,  I  might  inflict 
on  you  the  chastisement  of  irony  and  defeat  ;  I  might 
say  this  or  that,  and  speak  truly  and  justly.  But  no  ; 
I  leave  you  to  your  own  consciences,  which  will  tell 
you  of  your  faults  and  faiUngs  more  forcibly  than  I 
can.  For  my  part,  I  prefer  holding  out  a  hand  to 
you,  I  prefer  to  pity,  to  save  you."  .  .  . 

We  must  become  the  servants  of  all.  .  .  .  That 
was  the  course  pursued  by  Saint  John  Chrysostom. 
"  A  man,"  says  he,  "  who  is  only  bound  to  serve  one 
master,  and  to  submit  to  one  opinion  only,  may  dis- 
charge his  duty  without  trouble  ;  but  I  have  an 
infinity  of  masters,  being  called  to  serve  an  immense 
people  who  hold  many  different  views.  Not  that  I 
bear  this  servitude  with  any  sort  of  impatience,  nor 
that  by  the  present  discourse  I  would  defend  myself 
against  the  authority  which  you  exercise  over  me  in 
the  capacity  of  masters.  God  forbid  that  I  should 
entertain  such  a  thought  !  On  the  contrary,  nothing 
is  so  glorious  to  me  as  this  servitude  of  love." 

The  same  feelings  ought  to  pervade  the  heart  of 
every  Christian  priest,  who  should  be  able  to  say  as 
St.  Paul  did  to  the  Corinthians  : — "  Out  of  much  afflic- 
tion and  anguish  of  heart,  I  wrote  unto  you  with  many 
tears  ;  not  that  ye  should  be  grieved,  but  that  ye 
might  know  the  love  which  I  have  more  abundantly 
unto  you." 


210  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

You  become  aware,  for  instance,  of  a  prevailing 
disposition  to  ill-will,  and  have  cause  to  apprehend 
the  ridicule  of  certain  parties.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, throw  yourself  into  the  hands  of  your  audi- 
ence ;  make  them  your  judge,  and  rest  assured  you 
will  be  treated  with  indulgence.  As  Saint  Augustine 
has  said  : — "  If  you  fear  God,  cast  yourself  into  His 
arms,  and  then  His  hands  cannot  strike  you."  In  hke 
manner,  if  you  fear  the  wit  and  ridicule  of  the  French 
people,  throw  yourself  into  their  hearts,  and  then  the 
sallies  of  their  tongues  will  fail  to  reach  you. 

There  are  certain  thoughts  and  expressions  which 
have  a  great  hold  on  the  French  mind,  such  as  prog- 
ress, liberty,  enhghtenment.  These  you  should 
never  meddle  with  unless  absolutely  obliged.  We 
ought  to  respect  even  the  illusions  of  our  brethren, 
when  they  do  nobody  any  harm.  When  we  are 
forced  to  combat  them,  it  should  be  done  with  courtesy, 
with  gentle  irony,  or  with  profound  ability.  We,  too, 
may  speak  of  enlightenment,  of  progress,  and  of 
liberty,  and  point  out  that  they  can  only  be  effectually 
attained  through  the  instrumentality  of  religion.  .  .  . 

Matters  have  undoubtedly  improved  on  this  score  ; 
proving  that,  if  we  correct  our  own  errors,  the  effect 
will  not  be  lost  upon  others.  We  are  now  far  remov- 
ed from  the  time  when  nothing  but  the  future  was 
talked  of, — the  philosophy  of  the  future,  the  happiness 
of  the  future, — when  it  used  to  be  said  that  the  time 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  21 1 

was  big  with  the  future,  big  with  a  new  philosophy  ; 
nay,  even  with  a  new  rehgion  ;  whereas,  in  truth,  it 
was  big  with  nothing  but  misery,  as  the  event  fully 
proved.     .     .     . 

We  must  not  assail  these  delusions  directly,  nor 
imitate  the  bold  preacher  who  is  reported  to  have 
said — "  So  we  are  supposed  to  be  living  in  the  era  of 
light  !  If  so,  then  it  is  the  devil  who  holds  the  candle." 
On  the  contrary,  you  should  enter  into  the  current 
of  the  ideas  of  the  age,  and  strive  vigorously  to  turn 
it  in  favor  of  religion,  by  taking  advantage  of  pre- 
vaihng  errors  and  delusions  to  edify  your  hearers. 

One  of  the  lectures  of  the  Rev.  Père  Ventura  sup- 
plies a  fine  model  of  this  style  of  preaching  ;  which 
but  for  the  sacredness  of  the  place  where  it  was 
delivered,  would  undoubtedly  have  elicited  roars  of 
applause.  He  had  been  showing  that  the  attempt  to 
introduce  German  philosophy  into  France  was  a  great 
mistake,  inasmuch  as  it  was  altogether  unsuited  to 
the  positive,  sensible,  and  Christian  mind  of  the 
French  people.  He  wound  up  as  follows  : — "  French- 
men, it  is  your  bane  that  you  do  not  value  yourselves 
as  you  ought,  that  you  wish  to  imitate  foreigners  ; 
whereas  you  are  rich  enough  in  resources  of  your  own. 
Last  century  you  imitated  English  politics  and  were 
not  very  successful.  Why  do  you  now  wish  to  borrow 
a  philosophy  from  Protestant  Germany  ?  Frenchmen, 
be  yourselves.  .         What!  are  you  not  rich  enough 


212  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

in  mind,  in  your  wonderful  talent  for  comparison  and 
for  development,  and  in  your  extreme  quickness  at 
deducing  consequences  from  the  most  remote  premi- 
ses ?  Not  rich  enough  in  the  truth  which  eighteen  cen- 
turies of  Christianity  have  poured  into  your  bosoms, 
and  to  which  you  owe  your  civilization  and  grandeur. 
Frenchmen,  forbear  aping  others  ;  you  have  only  to 
be  yourselves  in  order  to  be  great."  (Prolonged  sen- 
sation.) 

We  should  become  all  things  to  all  men,  without 
ever  being  rude  ;  being  always  simple,  natural,  true, 
and  upright.  These  are  qualities  admired  alike  by 
all  ;  by  the  little,  and  especially  by  the  great.  .  .  . 

The  wealthy  residents  in  towns  frequently  go  to 
spend  a  part  of  the  fine  season  in  the  country,  where 
the  curé,  in  order  to  exalt  religion  in  their  eyes — and 
the  pastor  a  little  as  well — thinks  himself  called  upon 
to  be  at  the  expense  of  some  grand  phrases  and  flights 
of  fancy.  Now,  such  a  course  is  neither  adroit  nor 
apostolic.  As  to  grand  phrases,  the  visitors  hear 
enough  of  them  in  the  towns.  Besides,  they  may 
judge  that  you  have  talked  at  them,  and  may  be 
offended.  Moreover,  it  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that 
they  may  think  you  have  mistaken  your  profession. 
.  .  .  Instead  of  acting  in  this  way,  do  not  seem  to  be 
aware  of  their  presence,  but .  speak  boldly  to  your 
people  in  your  usual  style.  Avail  yourself,  neverthe- 
less, of  any  fitting  occasion  to  tell  them  some  useful 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  213 

truths  ;  to  draw  their  attention  to  some  striking  para- 
able,  hke  that  of  the  poor  man  with  the  ewe  lamb  and 
the  prophet  Nathan,  which  may  afford  you  a  good  op- 
portunity of  reaching  the  rich  over  the  shoulders  of 
the  peasant.  Be  careful,  however,  always  to  do  this 
in  a  kindly  manner  ;  both  rich  and  poor  will  then  be 
more  satisfied  with  you,  and  God  Himself  will  concur 
in  the  same  opinion. 

Remember  that  you  have  a  difficult  part  to  play  in 
a  small  town.  There,  you  may  not  say  all  that  may 
be  said  in  a  large  city.  There,  the  most  paltry  things 
assume  huge  proportions.  One  of  our  best  pre^achers 
entirely  failed  of  success  through  having  omitted  to 
repeat  the  Ave  Maria  after  the  exordium,  and  for  not 
having  allowed  his  audience  time  to  cough,  to  expec- 
torate, and  to  take  breath.  It  is  a  wonder  that  he  es- 
caped without  having  his  orthodoxy  suspected. 

Moreover,  the  residents  in  small  towns  are  exces- 
sively fond  of  finely-turned  phrases,  rhetorical  dis- 
plays, and  pomposity.  They  call  such  rodomontade 
poetry,  and  think  it  sublime.  You  may  adopt  it 
occasionally  by  way  of  accompaniment.  Neverthe- 
less, don't  be  led  into  the  delusion  that  any  essay  in 
that  style  will  prevent  the  sturdy  botirgeois  from 
slandering  his  neighbor,  from  cheating  him  if  he 
can,  and  from  doing  many  other  things  of  a  similar 
kind. 

Good  manners  have  great  weight  in  France,  and 


214  '^^^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

many  things  are  excused  in  him  who  says  them 
cleverly. 

A  celebrated  preacher  was  expected  to  preach  a 
charity  sermon  in  one  of  the  Paris  churches.  A 
crowded  audience  had  already  assembled,  when,  to 
their  surprise  and  disappointment,  they  saw  the 
parish  priest  enter  the  pulpit,  and  heard  him  an- 
nounce that,  owing  to  the  sudden  indisposition  of 
the  eminent  preacher,  he  was  obhged  to  supply  his 
place.  Thereat  the  congregation  rose  and  began  to 
leave  the  church.  Meanwhile  the  priest,  seeing  the 
crowed  on  the  move,  and  the  anticipated  collection 
disappearing  with  them,  suddenly  arrested  them  with 
a  bon  mot.  "  My  brethren,"  said  he,  "  when  every 
body  has  left  the  church,  I  will  begin."  This  so  de- 
lighted the  audience  that  they  remained  where  they 
were  ;  the  priest  preached  an  excellent  sermon,  and 
the  collection  was  most  liberal. 

We  should  endeavor  to  acquire  and  practise  all 
the  breeding  and  politeness  of  good  society,  with 
sincerity  superadded.  By  birth,  we  are  for  the  most 
part  children  of  the  people  ;  that  is  neither  a  fault 
nor  a  disgrace  ;  it  forms  an  additional  resemblance 
between  ourselves  and  the  Apostles.  But  our  primary 
education  was  neglected,  and  we  should  fill  up  the 
gap  by  retaking  from  the  world  those  forms  which 
it  has  borrowed  from  Christianity,  and  fill  them  up 
with  the  substance.    Then  we  shall  be  powerful  men. 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  215 

The  present  age  has  given  us  a  great  model  of  this 
tact,  kindhness,  and  urbanity  of  speech  in  the  person 
of  the  Cardinal  de  Cheverus. 

"  He  generally  spoke,"  says  M.  Hamon,*  "  with  such 
tact  and  moderation,  and  so  much  to  the  purpose, 
that,  far  from  offending  any  one,  his  audience  always 
went  away  gratified.  Some  were  convinced,  others 
were  staggered,  and  all  disabused  more  or  less  of 
their  prejudices.  When  he  addressed  persons  of  a 
different  communion,  his  kind  and  affectionate  words 
were  the  utterances  of  a  heart  overflowing  with  be- 
nevolence and  charity.  He  made  his  audience  feel 
by  the  accents  of  his  voice  and  his  whole  deportment 
that  it  was  a  friend  who  was  addressing  them  ;  not 
merely  a  sincere,  but  a  tender  and  devoted  friend, 
who  wished  them  all  possible  good  ;  and  this  persua- 
sion, by  disposing  them  to  welcome  his  words,  opened 
the  way  for  him  to  their  hearts. 

"  His  usual  course  was  this  :  he  first  stated  the 
question  clearly,  expounding  carefully  the  true  doc- 
trine of  the  Church  ;  ehminating  therefrom  all  the 
erroneous  interpretations,  wherewith  heretics  have 
travestied  it  in  order  that  they  might  decry  it.  He 
then  adduced  his  proofs  in  a  form  so  simple  and  nat- 
ural, combining  them  with  reasons  so  completely 
within  the  reach  of  ordinary  intelligences,  that  no 

*  Histoire  du  Cardinal  de  Chevertis. 


2l6  TJie  Clergy  and  the  PtUpit. 

effort  of  the  mind  was  required  to  feel  their  force. 
He  adhered  above  all  to  those  proofs  which  speak  to 
the  heart  ;  setting  forth  all  that  is  lovely  and  affect- 
ing, noble  and  excellent  in  the  Catholic  creed.  It  is 
almost  unnecessary  to  add  that  his  efforts  were  often 
crowned  with  deserved  success." 

But  the  exercise  of  tact  and  kindliness  on  our 
part,  is  specially  called  for  in  times  of  public  com- 
motion, when  men's  minds  are  disturbed  and  their 
passions  inflamed.  Under  such  circumstances,  we 
should  endeavor  to  be  perfectly  self-possessed  our- 
selves, in  order  that  we  may  be  the  better  able  to 
control  others. 

Before  all,  we  should  be  just.  The  people,  on 
their  part,  have  an  exquisite  sense  of  justice.  In 
depicting  their  faults  or  their  excesses,  abstain  from 
all  exaggeration  ;  rather  say  too  little  than  too  much, 
and  they  will  accuse  themselves  unsparingly.  Out- 
step the  limits  of  truth,  and  they  will  rebel,  and  you 
will  forfeit  all  your  influence  over  them.  Further, 
take  pains  to  explain  to  them  in  detail  how  matters 
stand  ;  show  them  that  you  are  not  an  enemy,  but  a 
sincere  friend  and  adviser,  and  they  will  resign  them- 
selves, even  to  suffering. 

A  great  orator  has  left  on  record  a  perfect  model 
of  this  style  of  address.  He  is  so  little  known  that 
I  cannot  resist  the  desire  of  quoting  him.  Some 
time  prior  to  the  Revolution  of  '89,  the  dearness  of 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  217 

bread  had  excited  public  indignation  at  Marseilles, 
excesses  had  been  committed,  and  still  greater  out- 
rages were  apprehended. 

Mirabeau  caused  a  notice,  containing  the  follow- 
ing passages,  to  be  put  up  on  all  the  walls  of  the 
town  : — 

"  My  good  friends,  I  am  about  to  tell  you  what  I 
think  of  the  occurrences  which  have  taken  place  in 
this  superb  city  during  the  last  few  days.  Listen  to 
me  :  I  shall  not  deceive  you  ;  my  only  wish  is  to  be 
of  use  to  you, 

"  Every  one  of  you  desires  what  is  right,  for  you 
are  all  honest  people  ;  but  every  one  does  not  know 
how  he  ought  to  act.  A  man  is  often  deceived,  even 
with  respect  to  his  own  interests. 

"  You  complain  chiefly  of  two  things  :  of  the  price 
of  bread  and  the  price  of  meat. 

"  Let  us  consider  the  subject  of  the  bread  first  ; 
other  matters  will  come  after. 

"  Bread  is  the  most  indispensable  article  of  food, 
and  there  are  two  requisites  regarding  it  :  first,  that 
there  should  be  an  adequate  supply  ;  and,  secondly, 
that  it  should  not  be  too  dear. 

"  Well,  my  good  friends,  I  have  some  cheering 
news  to  tell  you.  There  is  no  deficiency  of  wheat  at 
the  present  moment.  There  are  50,000  loads  in  the 
city,  which  will  furnish  bread  for  three  months  and 
twelve  days.     But,  my  good  friends,  that  is  not  all  ; 


2i8  The  Clci'gy  and  the  Pidpit. 

your  administrators  and  the  merchants  still  expect  a 
large  additional  supply 

"  Be  calm,  therefore  ;  be  perfectly  calm.  Thank 
Providence  for  giving  you  what  others  are  deprived 
of 

"  You  have  heard  it  reported,  and  you  yourselves 
know,  that  the  seasons  generally  have  been  bad 
throughout  the  country.  The  people  have  to  suffer 
elsewhere  much  more  than  you  do  here  ;  yet  they 
bear  it  patiently. 

"I  trust,  therefore,  that  you  will  be  contented  and 
quiet,  and  that  your  example  may  promote  peace  on 
all  sides.  Then,  my  good  friends,  it  will  be  said 
everywhere  :  The  Marseillaise  are  a  brave  j^eople. 
The  King  wall  hear  it — that  excellent  King  whom 
we  should  not  afflict,  whom  we  unceasingly  invoke- 
even  he  will  hear  of  it,  and  will  esteem  and  love  you 
the  more." 

As  might  have  been  expected,  this  address  pro- 
duced the  happiest  results.  The  people  do  not,  can- 
not resist  such  appeals,  unless  some  mischievous 
demagogue  interferes  to  rekindle  their  passions. 

Lastly,  I  must  say  a  few  words  on  a  subject  which 
should  be  candidly  explained  to  the  people.  I  allude 
to  the  money  taken  for  the  use  of  chairs  in  our 
churches,  and  the  difference  which  exists  in  the  cele- 
bration of  marriages  and  funerals  for  the  rich  and  the 
poor.     This  is  a  matter  which  causes  great  estrange- 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  219 

ment  from  religion,  and  he  who  is  not  aware  of  the 
fact  shows  his  ignorance  of  the  feehngs  prevaiUng 
among  the  people.  It  is  desirable  that  all  should  be 
set  right  on  this  point,  both  rich  and  poor  ;  even  the 
most  pious  amongst  us.  Faith  is  no  longer  large 
enough  to  comprehend  these  exigencies,  and  there  is 
a  wide-spread  suspicion  abroad  that  the  Church  is 
following  the  ruling  passion  of  the  multitude — love  of 
money.  Besides,  the  people  entertain  strong  views 
on  the  subject  of  equality,  and  expect  it  in  matters  of 
religion,  if  they  do  not  meet  with  it  anyv/here  else. 

Hence  it  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  reflections  such 
as  the  following  among  the  operatives  of  our  work- 
shops : — "  Religion  nowadays  is  no  longer  the  relig- 
ion of  the  Gospel.  The  Gospel  loves  and  prefers  the 
people  ;  but  religion  as  practised  at  present  prefers 
the  rich  and  encourages  felons. 

"  Take,  for  example,  two  men  of  humble  parentage. 
The  one  remains  a  workman  and  maintains  his  integ- 
rity all  his  life  ;  he  toils  on  and  dies  poor.  The 
other  becomes  rich  by  very  questionable  means,  de- 
frauds right  and  left,  and  dies  wealthy.  He  is  then 
placed  in  the  centre  of  the  church,  and  surrounded 
with  burning  tapers  and  chanting  priests.  .  .  . 
The  poor  devil  of  a  workman,  on  the  contrary,  who 
has  been  upright  all  his  life,  is  borne  in  the  rear  of 
the  parish  priest,  accompanied  by  two  or  three  assist- 
ants, with  as  many  tapers,  and  is  then  pitched  into  a 


220  The  Clergy  and  the  Ptdpit. 

corner.  .  .  .  And  you  would  have  me  believe  that 
this  is  the  religion  of  Christ  ?  It  is  no  such  thing  ; 
it  is  the  religion  of  the  priests  :  it  is  the  religion  of 
money."     .... 

Arguments  like  these  have  a  powerful  effect  on 
persons  who  are  incapable  of  sober  reflection  and 
who  scarcely  ever  look  beyond  the  present  state  of 
existence.  They  harrow  up  the  popular  instincts  ; 
and  with  the  people  instinct  is  every  thing.  The  man 
who  secures  the  command  over  their  instincts  may 
do  any  thing  with  them  ;  he  who  fails  in  that  respect 
cannot  manage  them  at  all.  ...  It  is  most  desirable, 
then,  that  the  inequality  complained  of  should  be 
kindly  and  frankly  explained. 

In  doing  so,  we  might  say  something  to  the  fol- 
lowin*g  effect: — "Dear  friends,  this  subject  is  quite 
as  painful  to  us  as  it  can  be  to  you  ;  but  you  are 
aware  that  there  are  some  stern  necessities  in  life. 
The  Church  is  poor  nowadays,  and  yet  has  many 
expenses  to  meet.  The  sacred  fabrics  must  be  main- 
tained, the  wages  of  employés  paid,  suitable  furniture 
provided,  and  we  ourselves,  brethren,  even  we,  the 
clergy,  must  live.  .  .  .  Would  you  like  us  to  go 
begging  our  bread  ?  Say,  would  you  wish  that  t 
Certainly  not  ;  for  if  you  knew  we  were  in  need,  you 
would  be  the  first  to  succor  us,  even  though  you  had 
to  stint  yourselves.  Moreover,  it  is  our  duty  to  visit 
the  poor  ;  and  would  you  condemn  us  to  the  greatest 


Tact  and  Kindliness.  221 

possible  misery,  that  of  witnessing  want  without  being 
able  to  relieve  it  ?  Say,  would  you  inflict  such  torture 
upon  us  ?  Well,  then,  brethren,  the  money  in  ques- 
tion goes  to  defray  these  expenses,  to  give  us  bread, 
and  to  enable  us  to  alleviate  the  necessities  of  the 
poor. 

"  Instead  of  complaining,  therefore,  be  content  that 
the  weddings  and  burials  of  the  wealthy  should  be 
made  to  provide  for  these  requisites.  Moreover, 
brethren,  let  us  lift  up  our  souls  and  look  beyond  the 
present  life.  Thank  God,  we  are  not  destined  to 
spend  all  our  existence  on  earth.  You  know  full  well 
that  this  life  is  not  all  our  life.  There  is  another  to 
follow,  where  all  the  inequalities  which  we  see  here 
will  be  perfectly  adjusted,  and  when  every  one  shall 
receive  according  to  his  works  and  not  according  to 
his  good  fortune.  Why,  then,  attach  so  much  im- 
portance to  these  matters  t  Surely  you  do  not  think 
that  God  troubles  Himself  about  them  ;  that  He 
counts  the  number  of  tapers,  or  carpets,  or  chairs  .''... 
God  looks  to  see  whether  a  man  has  been  upright  and 
honest,  faithfully  discharging  his  duties  as  a  citizen 
and  a  Christian.  Be  all  that,  my  brethren,  and  He 
will  not  fail  to  give  you  a  blissful  abode  in  heaven  ; 
which  will  be  far  better  than  the  most  magnificent 
place  in  the  church,  either  at  your  wedding  or  your 
funeral." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

INTEREST,  EMOTION,  AND  ANIMATION. 

We  should  endeavor  to  excite  Interest  by  Thoughts,  by  Sallies  or 
Epigrams,  by  Studies  of  Men  and  Manners — The  Truth  should  be 
animated — The  Père  Ravignan — The  Père  Lacordaire — The 
Heart  is  too  often  absent. 

We  remarked  in  a  former  chapter  that  the  preaching 
of  the  Divine  word,  especially  on  Sundays,  should  be 
to  the  people,  wearied  with  the  toil  and  cares  of  the 
week,  a  rest,  a  joy  ;  or,  as  the  Scripture  says,  a  refresh- 
ment. ...  It  should  be  to  them  what  a  spring  of 
water  surrounded  with  verdure  is  to  our  soldiers  worn 
out  with  marching,  and  scorched  by  the  sun  and 
burning  sands  of  Africa. 

Under  its  breath,  the  souls  of  men  should  dilate, 
blossom,  as  it  were,  and  feel  less  unhappy  ;  for  is  not 
the  Gospel  glad  tidings  }  Was  it  not  proclaimed  at 
the  Nativity  of  Christ  : — "  I  bring  you  glad  tidings  of 
great  joy  r 

Christian  pulpit  instruction  should  be  a  sort  of 
paternal  intercourse  enlivened  with  faith  and  charity 
—a  family  meeting  where  the  different  members  come 


Interest,  Emotion,  and  Animation.  223 

to  talk  over  their  labors  and  their  trials,  their  fears 
and  their  hopes,  and  the  bounty  of  that  Father  who 
is  in  Heaven,  in  such  a  way  that  each  may  go  away 
benefited  and  less  unhappy,  saying  within  himself: — 
'  I  feel  all  the  better  now.  The  words  of  the  preacher 
have  cheered  me.  Why  did  he  not  speak  a  little 
longer }  While  he  spoke,  my  soul  was  on  fire," — 
"  Did  not  our  heart  burn  within  us,  while  He  talked 
with  us  by  the  way  T 

Unfortunately,  this  is  no  longer  the  case.  The 
sermon  is  looked  upon  as  something  cold,  official,  and 
tedious  ;  or  merely  as  a  necessary  accompaniment  of 
the  service.  It  is  thought  wearisome  to  listen  to,  but 
must  needs  be  endured  for  the  sake  of  example. 
Generally  speaking,  moreover,  the  greater  part  of  the 
faithful  are  absent,  and  the  majority  of  the  pious  souls 
present  consists  of  females.  These  place  themselves 
as  much  at  their  ease  as  possible  on  a  couple  of  chairs, 
and  resign  themselves  to  undergo  the  sermon.  When 
it  is  over,  they  remark  that  it  was  either  a  good  or  an 
indifierent  discourse,  and  then  depart  absolutely  as 
they  came  ;  none  feeling  in  the  least  bound  to  practise 
what  has  been  enjoined. 

Preaching,  indeed,  is  a  sorry  trade.  The  preacher 
studies  and  meditates  on  his  subject,  composes  his 
sermon,  and  then  commits  it  to  memory.  What  a 
task  !  He  then  goes  into  the  pulpit,  and  is  grieved  to 
perceive  that  the  minds  of  his  audience  are  abstract- 


224  '^^^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

ed — that  they  look  hke  persons  who  are  being  bored  ; 
so  much  so,  that  he  is  glad  if  even  by  a  nod  of  assent 
they  do  not  prove  that  they  have  been  doing  any  thing 
else  rather  than  listening  to  him.  For  the  sermon  is 
undoubtedly  regarded  in  the  light  of  an  infliction  ;  a 
species  of  forced  labor.  When  the  faithful  learn  that 
there  is  to  be  no  sermon,  they  hail  the  announcement 
with  pleasure,  and  seem  to  say  with  great  glee  : — 
"  Another  sermon  got  over  !"  Hence  one  frequently 
hears  the  remark  : — "  I  shall  not  go  to  such  a  mass  be- 
cause there  is  preaching  there."  Truly,  all  this  is  sad, 
very  sad,  as  regards  the  preaching  of  the  Divine  word. 

But  who  is  to  blame,  ourselves  or  the  faithful  1  In 
the  first  place,  it  is  quite  certain  that  in  France  there 
is  a  decided  distaste  for  any  thing  serious,  or  that 
requires  attention  and  mental  effort.  Nothing  is  cared 
for  nowadays  but  what  is  amusing  ;  hence  the  most 
highly  remunerated  people  amongst  us  are  those  who 
cater  for  the  amusement  of  others,  some  of  whom 
make  fabulous  incomes.  How  to  be  amused  is,  in 
fact,  the  great  question  of  the  day,  insomuch  that  you 
hear  the  remark  on  all  sides  : — "  I  will  not  go  there 
again,  for  the  entertainment  did  not  amuse  me." 

The  malady  of  emmi  pervades  the  social  atmo- 
sphere and  all  who  move  in  it,  while  any  thing  serious 
suggests  wearisomeness  and  disgust.  This  state  of 
mind  is  the  result  of  excessive  selfishness.  For  three- 
fourths  of  their  time,  men  are  bored  about  themselves 


Interest,  Emotion,  and  Animation.  225 

personally.  They  then  feel  the  want  of  some  excite- 
ment to  get  rid  of  the  incubus,  and  generally  resort 
to  whatever  is  romantic  in  search  of  it. 

Again,  there  is  scarcely  any  prevailing  love  of  the 
truth  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  rather  dreaded,  and  men 
manifest  a  strange  pusillanimity  when  confronted  with 
it.  Whenever  a  stern  truth  is  addressed  to  others, 
they  readily  applaud,  and  think  it  quite  right  that 
this  and  that  vice  should  be  strongly  reprehended  ; 
but  when  it  is  brought  home  to  themselves,  they 
frown,  question  the  propriety  of  the  censure,  and  can 
see  no  harm  in  their  own  delinquencies.  Besides 
which,  there  is  a  universal  tendency  to  pass  judgment 
on  every  thing  sacred  and  profane,  and  a  sermon  is 
criticised  as  if  it  were  nothing  more  than  an  ordinary 
literary  production.  .  .  . 

These  are  shortcomings  on  the  pait  of  the  congre- 
gation, but  are  they  wholly  responsible  for  them  1 
The  blame  is  sometimes  cast  on  the  world,  on  the 
absorbing  passion  for  frivolity,  and  on  the  literature 
of  the  day  ;  but  may  there  not  be  a  little  fault  else- 
where }  It  is  our  duty  to  look  into  this  subject  ;  and 
as  we  are  called  upon  to  proclaim  the  truth  to  others, 
it  behoves  us  to  administer  it  in  the  first  place  to  our- 
selves. This  will  be  a  real  charity  ;  the  more  so,  be- 
cause if  we  are  not  told  it  to  our  faces,  we  may  rest 
assured  that  it  will  be  repeated  with  additions  behind 
our  backs. 


226  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

I  hasten,  then,  to  state  it.  There  is  a  large  amount 
of  talent  in  Paris,  and  no  lack  of  clergymen  who 
know  how  to  draw,  to  interest,  and  to  direct  an  audi- 
ence. In  the  provinces,  too,  how  many  preachers 
are  there,  who,  though  little  known,  do  a  vast  amount 
of  good  !  Christian  eloquence  is  still  one  of  the 
glories,  one  of  the  purest  and  most  indisputable  glories 
of  France.  As  a  witty  writer  has  said  : — "  God  has 
evidently  made  France  His  spoilt  child.  The  misfor- 
tune is  that  the  child  does  not  always  profit  by  the 
parent's  indulgence."  Unquestionably,  there  are  still 
apostolic  preachers  amongst  us,  whose  words  are 
effectual  in  stirring  up  and  saving  the  souls  of  men  ; 
nevertheless,  is  it  not  equally  sure,  that  our  usual  style 
of  preaching  is  deficient  in  interest  and  perspicuity,  is 
too  monotonous  and  didactic,  is  made  up  of  a  misuse 
of  reasoning  and  rhetorical  phraseology,  is  wanting  in 
heart  and  soul,  and,  above  all,  in  that  tone  of  convic- 
tion which  lends  to  speech  its  paramount  power  1  .  .  . 

In  the  first  place,  we  must  interest  our  hearers  ;  for 
that  is  an  indispensable  condition  of  benefiting  them. 
.  .  .  People  generally  require  to  be  interested.  They 
may  be  rather  exacting  on  that  point  :  it  may  be  a 
weakness  on  their  part  ;  but  what  is  to  be  done  .'* 
Must  we  not  become  all  things  to  all  men  }  Must  we 
not  take  them  as  they  are }  It  is  constantly  being 
repeated  that  society  is  unsound  ;  then,  should  we  not 
overlook  some  things  in  those  who  are  ailing  t     After 


Interest^  Emotion,  and  Animation.  227 

all,  the  question  is  not  to  discover  whether  they  are 
right  or  wrong.  The  vital  question  is  to  save  them, 
and  how  to  get  them  to  listen  to  us,  and  to  cause 
Gospel  truth  to  reach  their  ears,  their  minds,  and  their 
hearts  to  that  end.  Why  should  we  take  so  much 
trouble  in  preparing  sermons  if  they  are  not  to  be 
listened  to  ?  In  that  case,  it  becomes  nothing  more 
than  a  disheartening,  profitless  labor.  As  somebody 
once  remarked  : — "  They  teach  me  to  compose  magnifi- 
cent sermons.  I  only  wish  they  would  also  teach  me 
how  to  make  people  come  and  hear  them." 

Our  aim  then  should  be  to  secure  a  hearing.  To 
attain  that,  we  must  first  excite  interest  .  .     . 

There  are  different  ways  of  doing  this.  We  may 
interest  our  hearers  by  well-digested  studies  of  men 
and  manners,  conveyed  in  various  styles  of  unsophisti- 
cated and  sympathetic  language  ;  by  spirited  sallies  ; 
by  metaphors  drawn  from  the  incidents  of  every-day 
life  ;  and  by  heart-stirring  impulses  and  emotions  .  .  . 

In  the  first  place,  in  order  to  interest  an  audience 
you  must  never  lose  sight  of  them,  but  keep  them 
always  in  your  wake.  They  should  be  made  to  think 
and  feel  with  you,  and  even  to  anticipate  or  divine 
your  train  of  thought  ;  for  that  will  gratify  them.  At 
other  times,  prepare  a  surprise  for  them,  and  that  too 
will  please  them. 

When  you  perceive  that  the  attention  of  your 
hearers  is  flagging,  it  may  be  stimulated  by  a  lively 


228  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

speech  or  sally  ;  such  as  shall  gladden  their  hearts, 
and  draw  from  them  that  gentle  smile  which  bespeaks 
approving  assent  Frenchmen  are  delighted  with  this 
style  of  address  ;  and  surely  there  is  nothing  to  urge 
against  it.  With  so  many  depressing  cares  to  battle 
with,  one  should  rejoice  to  see  them  inspirited  a  little 
under  the  breath  of  the  Divine  word.  Moreover,  it 
may  be  made  a  useful  medium  for  communicating 
some  wholesome  truths. 

Sallies  of  this  kind  are  greatly  relished  by  the 
French  people,  even  when  directed  against  them- 
selves. 

All  great  orators  have  employed  them.  Saint 
Chrysostom  himself,  always  so  grave  and  dignified, 
did  not  disdain  to  use  them.  He  thus  wittily  derides 
the  vanity  of  the  male  sex  of  his  time  : — "  Look  at 
that  young  man.  He  walks  deUcately  on  the  tips  of 
his  toes  for  fear  of  soiling  his  shoes.  My  friend,  if 
you  dread  the  mud  so  much  on  account  of  your 
shoes,  put  them  on  your  head  and  they  will  be  safe." 

In  another  place  he  assails  the  vanity  of  the  wo- 
men. "  Why  are  you  so  proud  of  your  fine  clothes  1 
You  reply  :  '  Only  look  at  this  stuff  and  see  how 
beautiful  it  is  :  touch  it,  and  feel  how  silky  it  is.' 
True  :  but  that  is  no  merit  of  yours.  '  But  how  ex- 
quisitely this  dress  fits  me  !  '  True,  again,  but  the 
merit  of  that  is  due  to  the  sempstress." 

"  Alas  !  for  human  weakness,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "  it 


Interest,  Emotion,  and  Animation.  229 

takes  the  produce  of  a  plant,  an  animal,  or  a  vile  in- 
sect, bedizens  itself  therewith,  then  goes  abroad  and 
asks  the  world's  admiration,  saying  :  Look  at  me,  for 
I  am  worth  something  to-day." 

All  our  great  modern  orators,  both  of  the  tribune 
and  pulpit,  abound  in  trenchant  sallies  ;  which  almost 
always  carry  conviction,  because  they  are  universally 
understood. 

"France,"  says  M.  de  Falloux,  "repels  equally 
those  men  who  can  do  every  thing,  and  those  who 
can  do  nothing." 

The  Rev.  Père  Lacordaire  excels  in  epigrams  of 
this  kind.  He  has  a  peculiar  talent  in  that  line,  and 
has  succeeded  in  winning  over  many  of  his  hearers 
by  his  pithy  humor. 

One  day  his  object  was  to  show  that  rationalism 
does  not  possess  that  charity  which  distinguishes  the 
Christian  faith  and  ministry.  Instead  of  entering 
into  a  long  dissertation  on  the  subject,  he  expressed 
himself  thus  : — 

"  I  shall  only  say  a  few  words  about  rationalism  in 
connection  with  the  topic  before  us.  I  have  never 
heard  of  a  rationalist  having  been  beaten  by  the 
Cochin-Chinese.  Minds  like  theirs  are  too  highly 
polished  and  too  ingenious  to  risk  encountering  such 
distinction  in  behalf  of  the  truth.  It  will,  therefore, 
be  time  enough  to  trouble  ourselves  about  them, 
when  the  next  vacancy  occurs  in  the  Academy.    We 


230  The  Cleigy  and  the  Pidpit. 

are  too  well  bred  to  offer  them  any  thing  else  than  a 
laurel  branch,  which  they  unquestionably  deserve." 

On  another  occasion  he  remarked  with  a  smile, 
addressing  those  who  affected  unbelief  : — "  Yes,  sirs, 
I  admit  that  you  have  mind,  that  you  have  plenty  of 
mind  ;  but  know  this,  that  God  has  endowed  you 
with  it — a  clear  proof  that  He  entertains  no  fear  of 
it." 

Even  the  Rev.  Père  Ravignan,  who  is  generally 
so  austere,  ever  and  anon  adopts  a  similar  style. 

One  day,  in  recapitulating  the  philosophical  errors 
of  the  present  time,  he  remarked  :- — "  Rationalism  is 
another  error,  and  has  the  largest  following.  It  com- 
prises a  class  of  thinkers  who  are  devoid  of  faith  ; 
men  who  are  eternally  seeking  but  never  find  ;  jaded 
in  their  seach  by  the  oscillations  of  doubt,  the  sport 
of  grand  and  pretty  phrases.  According  to  them, 
the  day  is  at  length  about  to  dawn  ;  the  solution  of 
all  questions  is  at  hand.  If,  by  any  chance,  we  may 
have  still  to  wait  a  long  time  for  it  .  .  .  in  that 
case,  you  must  exercise  patience  ;  the  religion  of  the 
future  will  come  at  last  ;"  [then,  taking  off  his  cap 
and  bowing  ironically,  he  added,]  "for  which,  of 
course,  we  are  much  obliged." 

Similar  points  are  to  be  met  with  throughout  the 
discourses  of  M.  Lecourtier.  Addressing  wives,  he 
says  : — "  Do  not  play  the  master  at  home.  I  know 
of  no  one  so  ridiculous  as  the  wife  who  does  so,  un- 


Interest,  Emotion,  and  Animation.  231 

less  it  be  the  husband  who  obeys  her."  SaUies  hke 
these  are  treasured  up,  and  serve  to  recall  to  memory 
a  whole  discourse.  Moreover,  they  enlarge  the  heart 
and  dispose  it  to  subsequent  nobler  impulses.    .    .    . 

"  To  do  children  good,"  says  a  well-known  writer, 
"  they  must  be  interested  :  they  must  be  made  to 
laugh,  to  cry,  and  then  sent  away  happy."  Are  not 
the  people  still  children  t  Are  we  not  all  children 
still,  in  more  than  one  respect .'' 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  in  what  has  been  said 
above,  it  is  intended  that  any  person  whatever  should 
be  ridiculed  or  held  up  to  contempt.  On  the  con- 
trary, irony  should  never  be  employed  except  against 
prejudices,  vices,  and  crimes. 

Another  way  of  exciting  interest  is  by  lively,  skil- 
ful, witty,  and  delicate  sketches  of  men  and  manners. 
.  .  .  The  Frenchman  is  fond  of  being  spoken  to 
about  himself,  about  his  occupations,  his  characteris- 
tics, his  trials,  even  his  foibles  and  caprices.  This 
fact  is  too  much  lost  sight  of  We  descant  on  the 
Hebrews,  the  Jews,  the  Egyptians,  Midianites,  Phihs- 
tines,  and  other  nations  of  the  past.  Set  all  that 
aside,  and  speak  more  freely  of  the  Gospel  and 
Frenchmen,  and  of  Frenchmen  and  the  Gospel  ;  of 
Frenchmen  of  the  present  age,  of  their  virtues  and 
vices.  Do  this,  and  you  will  not  fail  to  interest  your 
hearers  :  you  will  interest  them  in  spite  of  them- 
selves. 


232  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

M.  Lecourtier  transcends  in  such  portraiture. 
Hence,  as  before  remarked,  his  sermons  always  at- 
tract crowded  audiences  ;  and  he  is  never  Hstened 
to  with  more  attention  then  when  dehneating  the  in- 
ner history  of  a  man  or  woman  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. Occasionally  some  are  offended,  and  declare 
that  they  will  not  com^  to  hear  him  again  ;  but  they 
seldom  keep  their  word,  for  they  find  his  discourses 
so  interesting  that  they  cannot  stay  away. 

Humility  is  not  our  forte  ;  on  the  contrary,  we  are 
all  very  fond  of  engaging  the  attention  of  others. 
Indeed,  we  prefer  ill-usage  to  neglect  ;  an  instance  of 
which  is  afforded  by  a  letter  addressed  to  a  celebrat- 
ed man  by  an  obscure  author,  wherein  he  wrote  : — 
"  I  entreat  you  to  be  kind  enough  to  refute  me,  and, 
if  need  be,  to  abuse  me,  for  that  will  bring  me  into 
notice." 

Studies  of  men  and  manners  are  well-timed  every- 
where. They  are  understood  by  and  interest  all,  be- 
cause they  draw  forth  a  repetition  of  the  speech 
made  by  the  woman  of  Samaria  : — "  I  have  seen  a  man 
who  hath  told  me  all  things  that  ever  I  did." 

Nevertheless,  we  must  not  stop  there.  After 
depicting  what  is  evil,  we  must  combat,  and  overcome, 
and  drive  it  away  by  the  force  of  logic,  and  by  the 
impulses  of  thought  and  heart  combined.  In  this, 
also,  we  may  find  it  easy  to  excite  interest. 

Every  truth  should  be  proved.     The  French  mind 


Interest,  Emotion,  and  Animation.  233 

is  pre-eminently  logical  ;  but  it  is  also  prompt  and 
quick,  and  likes  neither  that  which  is  long,  nor  that 
which  is  heavy  ;  nor  that  which  affirms  without  prov- 
ing, nor  yet  that  which  proves  too  much. 

State  your  principles,  therefore,  in  a  clear  and 
concise  form,  and  then  demonstrate  them  in  prompt 
and  vigorous  language  ;  making  your  audience  feel 
from  the  outset  that  you  are  master  of  the  situation  ; 
thereby  precluding  the  possibility  of  resistance  on  the 
part  of  the  ingenuous  or  even  of  the  disingenuous, 
and  that  while  listening  to  you  they  may  be  led  to 
repeat  the  remark  of  the  great  Condé  when  he  saw 
Bourdaloue  ascending  the  pulpit  : — "  Attention  !  voilà 
l'ennemi." 

Such  however,  is  far  from  being  the  case  with 
ourselves.  .  .  .  The  faithful  are  fed  with  nothing  but 
frigid,  precise,  dogmatic  and  even  unintelligible  dis- 
courses, which  are  supposed  to  convey  solid  instruc- 
tion. But  what  if  it  be  so,  if  the  discourses  are  neither 
listened  to  nor  understood }  Dry  bread  is  also  solid, 
yet  nobody  likes  it  only,  any  more  than  you  do  your- 
self; and  if  you  provide  nothing  but  such  food  at  your 
table,  rest  assured  that  you  will  find  but  few  guests. 

We  should  animate  or  impassion  reason  itself 
Demosthenes  did  this,  and  so  did  all  great  orators. 
The  Rev.  Père  Ravignan,  whose  reasoning  is  always 
so  forcible  and  logical,  gives  sensation  and  life  to  his 
arguments  in  a  masterly  manner. 


234  'r^^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

In  his  sermon  on  the  divinity  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  after  demonstrating  that  we  must  admit  the 
mystery  of  the  Incarnation  or  else  submit  to  many 
other  mysteries,  he  subjoins  : — "  But  the  objection  is 
raised  that  a  mystery  is  inexplicable,  insolvable.  So 
be  it  ;  nevertheless  not  to  admit  it,  is  to  throw  every 
thing  into  the  most  frightful  chaos.  .  .  .  Then  is 
Christianity  false  ;  the  world  believes  what  is  false  ; 
has  been  converted,  regenerated,  civilized,  by  what  is 
false  ;  there  is  falsehood  in  the  faith,  in  the  love,  and 
in  all  the  other  inspirations  of  the  Christian  religion  ; 
falsehood  in  all  the  blessings  which  have  been  con- 
ferred upon  humanity  in  the  name  of  God  the 
Redeemer  ;  falsehood  in  the  heroism  of  innumerable 
martyrs  ;  falsehood  in  all  the  master-minds  who  have 
adorned  Christianity  ;  falsehood  in  the  whole  chain 
of  science,  zeal,  devotion,  and  superhuman  virtues  ; 
falsehood  in  the  entire  series  of  the  ages  of  the 
Church,  in  all  its  monuments,  in  all  its  testimonies  ; 
falsehood  in  the  Catholic  priesthood  and  in  the  sacred 
ministry  of  all  centuries  ;  falsehood  in  the  happiness 
springing  from  faith  and  a  pure  conscience  ;  falsehood 
in  the  pulpit  ;  falsehood  on  my  lips  and  in  my  heart. 
What  !  does  your  light  and  disdainful  tongue  find  a 
lesser  mystery  in  all  these  consequences  which  neces- 
sarily result  from  your  principles  }  Me  they  terrify." 

We  should,  moreover,  attempt  in  some  way  to  put 
the  truth  into  action,  making  it  to  come  and  go,  to 


Interest,  Emotion ,  and  Animation.  235 

speak,  question,  and  reply  ;  and  should  always  keep 
the  scene  so  fully  occupied  that  the  minds  of  the 
audience  may  not  be  diverted  therefrom  for  an  instant. 
In  this  respect  also,  the  Rev.  Père  Lacordaire  supplies 
us  with  an  excellent  model. 

In  his  discourse  on  the  Intellectual  Society  fonncied 
by  the  CJinrch,  he  points  out  the  efforts  which  have 
been  made  by  the  world  to  destroy  the  immutability 
of  her  doctrine,  in  a  style  truly  dramatic  : — "  When 
every  thing  else  on  earth  is  subject  to  change,  what  a 
weighty  prerogative  must  the  possession  by  others  of 
an  unchangeable  doctrine  be  in  the  estimation  of 
those  who  do  not  themselves  possess  it  !  A  doctrine 
which  some  feeble  old  men,  in  a  place  called  the 
Vatican,  keep  secure  under  the  key  of  their  cabinet, 
and  which,  without  any  other  safeguard,  has  resisted  the 
progress  of  time,  the  conceits  of  sages,  the  machi- 
nations of  sovereigns,  the  downfall  of  empires,  and 
maintained  throughout  its  unity  and  identity.  A 
standing  miracle  this,  and  a  claim  which  all  ages, 
jealous  of  a  glory  which  disdained  theirs,  have  attempt- 
ed to  gainsay  and  silence.  One  after  another  they 
have  approached  the  Vatican,  and  knocked  at  the 
gate  with  buskin  or  boot.  Whereat  Doctrine  has 
come  forth  under  the  form  of  a  feeble  and  decrepit 
septuagenarian,  and  has  asked  : — 

"  *  What  do  you  want  of  me  ?' 


"  '  Change.' 


236  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

"  '  I  change  not.' 

"  '  But  every  thing  in  the  world  has  changed. 
Astronomy  has  changed  ;  philosophy  has  changed  ; 
empire  has  changed  ;  why  are  you  always  the  same  .'*  ' 

"  '  Because  I  come  from  God,  and  God  is  always 
the  same.' 

"  '  But  know  this,  that  we  are  masters.  We  have  a 
million  of  men  under  arms,  we  will  draw  the  sword, 
and  the  sword  which  demolishes  thrones  may  easily 
be  made  to  behead  an  old  man  like  yourself,  and  to 
tear  into  fragments  the  leaves  of  a  book.' 

"  '  Attempt  it.  Blood  is  the  aroma  which  gives  me 
new  youth.' 

"'  Well,  then,  accept  half  of  my  purple  ;  join  in  a 
sacrifice  to  peace,  and  let  us  go  shares.' 

"  *  Keep  thy  purple,  O  Caesar  ;  to-morrow  we  will 
bury  you  in  it,  and  will  chant  over  you  the  Alleluia 
and  De profujidis,  which  never  change.'  " 

This  is  something  which  everybody  can  understand, 
and  which  will  always  be  listened  to  with  pleasure, 
and  with  profit  to  the  truth. 

But  further  :  It  is  not  enough  to  speak  to  the  mind. 
That  goes  a  very  little  way,  however  powerful  our 
speech  may  be  ;  for  the  mind  is  merely  the  vestibule 
of  the  soul.  We  must  penetrate  to  the  sanctuary  of 
the  temple,  namely,  to  the  heart.  The  heart  is  nearly 
the  whole  man,  and  we  are  hardly  any  thing  apart  from 
the  heart.     It  is  the  heart  which  believes — "  with  the 


Interest,  Emotion,  a?td  Animation.  237 

heart  man  believeth" — and  it  is  the  heart  which  be- 
gets virtues.  Moreover,  the  heart  is  what  God  de- 
mands from  us. 

But  in  order  to  speak  to  the  heart,  we  must  have 
a  heart  ourselves,  and  make  use  of  it  too.     Now,  it  is 
questionable  in  these  days  whether  many  preachers 
have  a  heart.     No  one  can  perceive  it  in  them  ;  so 
great  is  the  care  which  they  take  not  to  expose  even 
a  corner  of  it,  lest  by  so  doing  they  might  derange 
the  massive  chain  of  their  arguments.     And,  besides, 
who  knows  but  that  it  might  subject  them    to  the 
charge  of  being  deficient  in  dignity  }     In  fact,  the 
heart  appears  to  have  come  down  from  the  pulpit, 
and  fears  to  occupy  it  again  .     .     .     it  is  no  longer 
allowed  to  play  a  part  there,  lest  it  might  prove  dis- 
concerting.    It  is  now  regarded  with  suspicion,  and 
God  must  have  been  mistaken  when  he  said  : — "  My 
son,  give  me  thine  heart."     The  general  notion  seems 
to  be,  that  nothing  more  is  required  in  order  to  do 
men  good  than  clearly  or  obscurely  to  demonstrate 
the  truth  to  them.     But  knowing  and  doing  are  as 
widely  apart  as  heaven  and  earth,  and  the  distance 
between  the  two   can    only  be  surmounted   by  the 
heart.  .  ,  .  Nothing,  indeed,  profits   an  audience  so 
much  ;  nothing  is  so  successful  as  the  windings,  the 
boundings  of  the  heart,  even  when  introduced  in  the 
middle  of  an  argument. 

All  those  who  heard  the  discourse  of  Père  Ventura 


238  TJie  Clcj'gy  and  the  Pulpit. 

on  the  PhilosopJiical  Reason  of  Modem  Times,  will 
recall  to  mind  the  profound  and  sympathetic  impres- 
sion which  he  produced  when,  after  having  spoken 
of  a  well-known  philosopher,  he  added  : — "  But,  after 
all,  he  was  endowed  with  a  rare  intellect,  a  genial 
heart,  and  a  noble  disposition.  Deceived  and  led 
astray  as  he  had  been  by  the  false  doctrines  of  the  day, 
he  nevertheless  eventually  recognized  and  avowed 
that  he  had  made  a  sad  bargain  when  he  exchanged 
the  tenets  of  the  faith  for  the  vain  conceptions  of 
science.  Some  moments  before  death,  he  shed  tears 
over  his  beloved  daughter,  who  had  just  partaken  of 
the  holy  communion  for  the  first  time.  Let  me 
believe  that  his  avowal  and  tears  were  acts  of  faith, 
of  repentance,  and  of  love,  which  availed  toward  his 
salvation  at  the  hands  of  a  merciful  God.  Let  me,  I 
say,  believe  this  ;  for  it  is  a  consolation  to  me  to 
believe  that  my  brethren  have  found  again,  even  in 
death,  that  grace  which  I  hope  to  find  myself  with  a 
benevolent  God." 

Yes,  if  we  appealed  to  the  heart  we  should  fre- 
quently discover  how  good,  true,  and  sincere  it  is, 
and  how  little  is  required  to  change  it  : — often  noth- 
ing more  than  a  word,  a  reminiscence,  a  tear,  a  look, 
a  sigh.  And  yet  how  sadly  has  this  easy  and  effectual 
means  been  neglected  !  .  .  .  Every  body  does  not 
understand  a  fine  dissertation,  but  every  body  does 
understand  a  good  sentiment. 


Interest,  Emotion,  and  Animation.  239 

To  sum  up  :   the  sermon   should   be   interesting, 
animated,  vivifying  ;  ten  years  of  a  Hfetime  should 
be  comprised  in  a  sermon  of  thirty  minutes'  duration. 
Speak  to  the  mind,  to  the  good  sense,  to  the  imagina- 
tion, to  the  hearts  of  men,  in  words  that  breathe  and 
thoughts  that  burn  ;  laying  hold  of  them,  as  it  were, 
by  whatever  stirs  the  lively  and  profound  emotions 
of  the  soul  :  by  grief  and  by  joy,  by  hatred  and  by 
love,  by  tears   and  by  consolations,  by  hell  and   by 
heaven.     Let  your  speech  be  always  powerful  and 
triumphant.     Whatever  you  attempt,  do  well.     If  you 
reason,  let  your  reasoning  be  sharp,  to  the  point,  and 
decisive.     If  you  exercise  charity,  let  it  flow  in  broad 
streams,  that  it  may  inundate  and  cheer  all  around. 
If  you  give  vent  to  anger,  let  it  escape  in  glowing  and 
irresistible  sallies.     If  you  are  ever  at  a  loss  what 
other  influence  to  invoke,  then  appeal  to  pity.     After 
such  outbursts,  there  should  be  intervals  of  calm  to 
tone  down  asperities,  to  smooth  to  softness  any  bitter- 
ness, and  to  express  regret  for  having  used   them  ; 
but  in  reality  to  make  a  deeper  impression  by  touch- 
ing a  different  chord  of  the  heart.     These  contrasts 
of  thought  and  sentiment  always  produce  a  powerful 
effect.     M.  Berryer  is  well  aware  of  this,  and  often 
avails  himself  of  them  with  the  greatest  success. 

In  the  celebrated  discussion  on  the  affairs  of  the 
East,  after  having  exhibited  the  humiliation  of  France, 
he  added  : — "  Let   no  more  be  said  upon  what   has 


240  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

been  done  ;  above  all,  let  us  never,  never  again  recall 
the  humiliating  admissions  which  have  reached  us 
both  from  London  and  Constantinople.  (Profound 
sensation.) 

"  Let  that  despatch,  wherein  Lord  Palmerston  is 
stated  to  have  said  that  France  would  yield,  and  that 
the  Eastern  question  would  be  settled  in  accordance 
with  the  wishes  of  England,  be  buried  in  oblivion.  .  .  . 
Is  there  a  country  whose  ambassadors  have  cogni- 
zance of  such  language,  and  not  only  retain  their 
posts,  but  become  ministers  }  (Bravo,  bravo  !)  That 
country  is  certainly  not  France.  (Renewed  applause.) 
England  cannot  have  said  so.  Those  who  saw  us 
even  at  Waterloo  could  not  say  such  a  thing.  .  .  ." 

But  after  this  suspension  of  arms,  we  must  return 
to  the  charge  with  redoubled  nerve  and  bravery, 
implanting  our  weapon  in  the  heart,  and  turning  it 
again  and  again  within  the  wound.  In  other  words, 
our  train  of  thought  should  be  still  more  energetic, 
our  sentiments  more  powerful  ;  embodied  sometimes 
in  a  dramatic  or  tragic  form,  wherein  truth  and  error 
are  brought  together  in  a  fierce  and  obstinate  hand- 
to-hand  struggle  ;  truth  being  made  to  overthrow 
error  and  to  triumph  over  vice,  and  then  to  raise  the 
erring  and  the  transgressor,  to  embrace  them,  and  to 
bear  them  away  with  herself  to  virtue,  to  happiness, 
to  heaven.     .     .     . 

The    following    extract    from    M.    de    Cormenin 


Interest,  Emotion,  and  Aftimation.  241 

furnishes  an  admirable  summary  of  the  foregoing 
chapter  : — 

"  Select  with  a  quick  and  confident  instinct,  from 
among  the  methods  available  to  you,  the  method  of 
the  day  ;  which  may  not  be  the  most  soHd,  but  which, 
considering  the  disposition  of  men's  minds,  the  nature 
of  the  matter  in  hand,  and  the  peculiarity  of  con- 
comitant circumstances,  is  the  best  adapted  for  mak- 
ing an  impression  upon  your  audience. 

"  Take  strong  hold  of  their  attention.  Stir  up 
their  pity  or  indignation,  their  sympathies  or  their 
antipathies,  or  their  pride.  Appear  to  be  animated 
by  their  breath,  all  the  while  that  you  are  communi- 
cating yours  to  them.  When  you  have,  in  some  de- 
gree, detached  their  souls  from  their  bodies,  and 
they  come  and  group  themselves  of  their  own  accord 
at  the  foot  of  the  pulpit,  riveted  beneath  the  influence 
of  your  glance,  then  do  not  dally  with  them,  for  they 
are  yours  ;  your  soul  having,  as  may  be  truly  said, 
passed  into  theirs.  Look  now  how  they  follow  its 
ebb  and  flow  !  how  they  will  as  you  will  !  how  they 
act  as  you  act  !  But  persist,  give  no  rest  ;  press 
your  discourse  home,  and  you  will  soon  see  all  bo- 
soms panting  because  yours  pants  ;  all  eyes  kindling 
because  yours  emit  flame,  or  filling  with  tears  because 
you  grow  tender.  You  will  see  all  the  hearers  hang- 
ing on  your  lips  through  the  attractions  of  persua- 
sion ;  or,  rather,  you  will  see  nothing,  for  you  yourself 


242  The  Clergy  and  the  Ptilpit. 

will  be  under  the  spell  of  your  own  emotion  ;  you 
will  bend,  you  will  succumb,  under  your  own  genius, 
and  you  will  be  the  more  eloquent  the  less  effort  you 
make  to  appear  so. 

"  Be  clear,  exact,  concise,  impartial. 

"  Do  not  attempt  to  say  every  thing,  but  what  you 
do  say,  say  well." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  POWER  AND   ACCENT   OF   CONVICTION. 

The  Divine  Word  has  always  been  the  first  Power  in  the  World — 
The  Gospel  still  the  first  of  Books — There  can  be  no  Christian 
Eloquence  without  the  Accent  of  Personal  Conviction. 

Hitherto,  we  may  be  said  to  have  treated  merely 
of  human  instrumentahty  ;  we  must  now  consider  our 
subject  in  a  higher  point  of  view.  Reason,  imagina- 
tion, and  sentiment  are  necessary  quahfications  to 
success  in  our  vacation  ;  but  we  require  besides  these 
the  power  of  God,  because  our  aim  is  to  lay  hold  of 
and  to  direct  the  souls  of  men.  Now,  as  that  mighty 
genius  Bossuet  has  remarked  : — "  There  is  nothing  so 
indomitable  as  the  heart  of  man.  When  I  see  it 
subdued,  I  adore."  And  why  ?  Because  he  recog- 
nized in  such  submission  a  superhuman  agency. 

This  power  we  possess  in  the  Word,  which  is  the 
power  of  God  ;  before  which  every  head  must  bow, 
and  every  knee  bend,  whether  on  earth,  in  heaven,  or 
in  hell.  Armed  with  the  Divine  word,  our  power  is 
immense  ;  only,  in  order  to  wield  it,  we  must  our- 
selves be  thoroughly  penetrated  thereby,  and,  above 


244  ^^^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

all,  be  able  to  convince  others  that  we  are  so.  It 
must  be  felt,  seen,  and  acknowledged  that  God  is 
with  us. 

The  Divine  word  is  the  foremost  power  in  the 
w^orld.  It  has  withstood  and  overcome  every  other 
power.  ...  It  has  uttered  its  voice  everywhere  :  in 
the  catacombs,  at  the  foot  of  the  scaffold,  under  the 
axe  of  the  executioner,  and  within  the  jaws  of  wild 
beasts.  It  has  spoken  while  the  feet  of  the  speakers 
have  been  drenched  in  blood.     .     .     . 

During  the  middle  ages,  mighty  barons,  sheltered 
behind  impregnable  strongholds,  had  cast  the  net- 
work of  their  sway  over  the  whole  of  France,  and 
silence  was  imposed  on  all  lips.  Nevertheless,  on 
more  than  one  occasion  did  the  Divine  word,  in  the 
guise  of  a  priest  or  monk,  venture  to  ascend  the  steps 
of  those  redoubtable  fortresses  ;  and  its  voice  alone 
sufficed  to  inspire  fear  in  the  breasts  of  men  clad  in 
armor  of  steel. 

There  was  a  king  in  whom  power  seemed  incar- 
nate. That  king  was  Louis  XIV.  He  dared  to  say  : 
— "  L'état,  la  France,  c'est  moi."  Under  his  inspir- 
ing look,  military  genius  triumphed  in  war  ;  poetry 
begat  the  sublimest  conceptions  ;  canvas  spoke  ; 
marble  was  animated  ;  and  the  arts  replenished  even 
the  gardens  of  his  royal  abode  with  master-pieces  of 
skill. 

One  Sunday,  Louis  XIV.,  surrounded  by  his  court, 


TJie  Poiucr  and  Accent  of  Conviction.        245 

took  his  seat  in  the  chapel  at  Versailles,  when  the 
preacher  boldly  uttered  from  the  pulpit  those  terrible 
words  :  "  Woe  to  the  rich  !  Woe  to  the  great  !" 
whereat  the  monanch  lowered  his  eyes  and  the  cour- 
tiers murmured.  .  .  .  After  the  sermon,  there  was 
some  talk  of  reprimanding  the  priest  for  his  temerity  ; 
but  the  King  remarked,  with  a  justice  which  does 
him  honor  : — "  Gentlemen,  the  preacher  has  done  his 
duty  ;  it  behoves  us  now  to  do  ours." 

We  may  recognize  herein  the  power  of  the  Divine 
word  ;  and  it  is  that  same  word  which  is  on  our  lips. 

What,  indeed,  is  the  word  of  man  even  in  the 
mouth  of  the  boldest  orator,  even  when  set  forth  in 
all  the  brilliancy  of  its  power,  when  compared  with 
the  Divine  word }  .  .  ,  Much  has  been  said  of  the 
force  of  Mirabeau's  famous  apostrophe  : — "  The  com- 
munes of  France  have  decided  on  deliberating.  We 
have  heard  of  the  designs  which  have  been  suggested 
to  the  King  ;  and  you,  who  are  not  allowed  to  be  his 
organ  with  the  National  Assembly — you  who  possess 
neither  the  standing  nor  the  option,  nor  the  right 
of  speaking — go  and  tell  your  master  that  we  are 
here  by  the  power  of  the  people,  and  that  it  shall 
not  be  wrested  from  us  except  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet."* 

This  speech  has  been  eulogized  as  grand,  bold,  and 

*  The  authenticity  of  this  statement  has  been  questioned. 


246  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

even  audacious  ;  but,  what  does  it  amount  to  ?  Any 
priest  might  do  as  much,  and  say  something  far  better, 
with  greater  truth  and  less  arrogance  ;  for  there  is 
no  priest,  however  poor  and  humble  he  may  be,  who 
might  not  say  : — "  We  are  here  in  God's  name,  and 
here  we  intend  to  remain,  and  we  will  speak  in  spite 
of  guns  and  bayonets."  .  .  . 

But  the  fact  is,  we  are  not  adequately  convinced 
of  our  own  power,  and  of  the  superiority  which  we 
possess  over  every  thing  around  us  ;  for,  with  nothing 
else  in  our  hands  but  that  little  book  which  is  called 
the  Gospel,  we  may  bring  the  world  to  our  feet  ; 
inasmuch  as  the  Gospel  is,  and  will  continue  to  be, 
as  regards  mankind  generally,  the  first  of  books. 

There  are  not  wanting  those  who  taunt  us  in  this 
style  : — "  Ye  men  of  a  past  age,  ye  retrogrades,  follow 
in  the  wake  of  your  own  age  ;  strive  to  progress.  We, 
on  our  part,  have  been  constantly  advancing,  espe- 
cially within  the  last  two  centuries  ...  we  have 
gained  ground."  ...  To  this  we  are  justified  in 
replying  : — "  Very  true  ;  the  human  mind  has  deve- 
loped ;  you  have  worked  hard  ;  you  have  stirred  up 
thought  ;  you  have  filled  our  libraries  with  first-rate 
books  ;  there  have  been  some  profound  thinkers  and 
sublime  geniuses  among  you  ;  and  you  have  given 
birth  to  many  admirable  ideas.  All  this  we  admit  ; 
nevertheless,  show  us  a  book  superior  to  our  Gospel, 
or  one  which  will  even  bear  comparison  with  it.    Tell 


The  Power  and  Accent  of  Convictioit.       247 

us  where  it  is  to  be  found.  You  talk  of  progress,  and 
bid  us  follow  you  ;  but  it  is  we  who  are  in  advance, 
and  you  who  are  behind.  .  .  .  Begin  your  studies 
afresh  ;  do  something  better  ;  and  then  come  to  us 
again,  and  we  will  see.  In  the  meantime,  we  occupy 
the  foremost  place,  and  are  determined  to  hold  it." 

Our  power,  we  maintain,  is  far  above  that  of  any 
earthly  weapons  ;  for  the  Christian  preacher  is  backed 
by  eighteen  centuries  of  learning  and  virtue,  which 
believed  what  he  declares  —  by  more  than  ten  mil- 
lions of  martyrs,  who  died  to  attest  the  truth  of  what 
he  proclaims  ;  and,  behind  all  that,  he  is  supported 
by  the  mighty  voice  of  God  which  says  to  him  : — 
"  Speak,  and  be  not  afraid,  for  I  am  with  thee." 

It  behoves  us,  therefore,  to  be  thoroughly  per- 
suaded of  the  power  which  the  Divine  word  confers 
upon  us.  But,  besides  this,  we  must  make  our 
hearers  feel  that  we  are  so  endowed.  They  must 
be  impressed,  while  listening  to  us,  that  we  verily 
and  indeed  speak  in  God's  name — that  we  are  not 
men  who  have  merely  cogitated  or  mused  in  their 
studies,  and  then  come  forth  to  propound  their  own 
ideas  ;  but  that  we  are  commissioned  from  on  high 
to  proclaim  to  mankind  the  laws  and  promises  of 
God,  before  whom  we  ourselves  profoundly  bow. 
They  must  read  all  this  in  our  whole  deportment, 
in  oMr  voice,  our  gestures,  and,  above  all,  in  our 
charity.     In  a  word,  we  must  possess  the  accent  of 


248  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

conviction,  that  accent  which  beheves,  speaks,  arrests, 
and  alarms. 

The  accent  of  conviction  is  made  up  of  a  mixture 
of  faith,  power,  and  love  combined  ;  the  combination 
forming  a  characteristic  which  is  at  once  simple,  pious, 
and  grand,  redolent  of  inspiration  and  sanctity.  It 
is  the  power,  the  life  of  speech  ;  the  sacred  fire,  or 
what  Mirabeau  styles  divinity  in  eloquence.  "I  have 
never  heard  any  one  speak,"  said  he,  referring  to 
Barnave,  "  so  long,  so  rapidly,  and  so  well  ;  but  there 
is  no  divinity  in  him."  The  accent  of  conviction  is 
the  magic  of  speech  .  .  .  that  which  puts  argument 
to  silence,  withdraws  all  attention  from  the  preacher, 
and  fixes  it  solely  on  what  he  says  ;  or  rather,  on  what 
God  says  through  him. 

Unhappily,  we  are  very  backward  in  this  respect. 
There  is  faith  undoubtedly  in  our  souls  ;  but  it  is  not 
always  manifest  in  our  speech.  .  .  .  How,  then,  can 
we  expect  to  make  others  believe  what  we  do  not 
seem  to  them  to  believe  ourselves  t 

We  have  to  deal  v/ith  a  light,  reasoning,  and  some- 
what sceptical  world,  accustomed  to  regard  every  one 
as  merely  acting  a  part  .  .  .  and  if  you  do  not 
possess  the  accent  of  conviction,  it  will  either  suspect 
you  of  hypocrisy,  or  will  brand  you  by  admiring  how 
well  you  ply  the  trade,  and  how  cleverly  you  play 
your  game. 

There  is  a  remark  very  common  nowadays,  which 


The  Power  and  Accent  of  Convictiojt.       249 

is  much  to  be  regretted.  If  one  speaks  of  a  preacher, 
he  is  immediately  asked  :  "  Has  he  faith  ?"  which 
means  :  Does  he  appear  to  beUeve  what  he  says  ? 
Should  the  reply  be  :  "  No  ;  .  .  .  but  he  is  a 
fine  speaker;"  the  rejoinder  generally  is:  "  Then  I 
shall  not  go  to  listen  to  him  ;  for  I  want  to  hear 
somebody  who  has  faith."  This  observation  is  not 
intended  to  imply  any  doubt  of  the  inward  faith  of  the 
preacher,  but  that  he  preaches  as  if  he  did  not  beheve 
what  he  utters. 

Let  us,  however,  do  the  world  this  justice,  that 
when  it  meets  with  the  accent  of  conviction — the  bold 
accent  of  faith,  as  Saint  Chrysostom  calls  it, — it  is 
deeply  impressed  thereby.  The  preacher  who  believes 
and  speaks  out  of  that  belief,  astounds,  staggers,  and 
overcomes  the  gainsayers.  A  few  words  uttered  with 
the  accent  of  conviction  go  much  further  than  many 
long  sermons.  How,  indeed,  can  any  prevail  against 
one  in  whom  God  is  felt  to  dwell }  ,  .  .  Fine  language, 
talent,  imagination,  brilliant  argumentative  powers — 
all  these  are  common  enough  amongst  us,  and  we  are 
quite  accustomed  to  them  ;  but  what  is  rare,  what  is 
unlooked  for,  what  carries  every  thing  before  it,  is  the 
language  of  a  faith  and  of  a  heart  which  seems  to  echo 
the  voice  of  God  Himself 

Two  years  ago,  the  late  pious  and  gallant  Captain 
Marceau  was  present  at  a  meeting  of  operatives  in 
Paris,  many  of  whom  were  unbelievers  and  wrong- 


250  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

headed  men.  He  felt  moved  to  address  them,  and  the 
impression  which  he  produced  was  almost  magical. 
He  had  never  before  spoken  in  public  ;  nevertheless, 
he  did  so  on  the  occasion  referred  to  with  that  accent 
of  conviction  and  candor  which  finds  its  way  at  once 
to  the  heart,  overcoming  all  resistance,  and  sometimes 
seeming  to  take  away  one's  breath. 

"  My  friends,"  said  he,  "  there  are  doubtless  some 
among  you  who  are  not  yet  Christians,  and  who  have 
no  love  for  religion.  I  was  once  as  ungodly  as  you 
are — perhaps  more  so  ;  for  no  one  has  hated  Chris- 
tianity more  cordially  than  I  have  done.  I  am  bound, 
however,  to  do  it  this  justice,  that  while  I  was  not  a 
Christian,  that  is,  till  I  was  twenty-three  years  old, 
I  was  unhappy,  profoundly  unhappy.  .  .  .  Up  to 
that  period,  my  friends,  I  had  not  lived.  No,  it  was 
not  living  ...  I  worried  myself,  or,  rather,  my 
passions  drew  or  drove  me  hither  and  thither,  and 
carried  me  away  ;  but  I  did  not  live  ...  I  was  a 
machine     .     .     .     but  I  was  not  a  man.     .     .     ." 

Strange  to  say,  scarcely  any  attention  is  paid  to 
this  accent  of  conviction,  which  is  the  soul  of  all 
eloquence;  more  especially  of  sacred  eloquence.  Those 
destined  to  proclaim  the  Divine  word  are  instructed 
in  every  thing  else  but  this.  .  .  .  Hence  the  language 
from  the  pulpit  is  often  cold,  monotonous,  turgid,  stiff, 
cramped,  conventional,  perfunctory  ;  savoring  of  a 
formal  compliment,  but  of  nothing   to  indicate  the 


The  Power  and  Accent  of  Conviction.       251 

effusion  of  a  genial  soul,  and  without  any  of  those 
felicitous  sallies  of  the  heart,  those  insinuating  and 
familiar  tones,  as  Fénélon  calls  them,  which  produce 
in  you  almost  a  Divine  impression. 

And  yet  there  are  many  pious  priests  amongst  us, 
many  who  are  truly  men  of  God.  Still,  such  is  the 
deplorable  power  of  routine,  that  their  piety  seems 
sometimes  to  abandon  them  when  in  the  pulpit — the 
very  place  where  it  should  be  most  conspicuous. 

Like  myself,  you  have,  doubtless,  in  the  course  of 
your  life,  often  met  with  one  of  these  estimable  priests, 
full  of  faith  and  charity.  His  countenance  alone  did 
you  good,  and  his  words  cheered  you  alike  in  familiar 
conversation  and  in  the  confessional.  .  .  .  The 
same  individual  occupies  the  pulpit  :  you  are  delight- 
ed to  see  him  there,  and  forthwith  set  yourself  to  listen 
to  him  with  earnest  attention  ;  but,  alas  !  you  no 
longer  recognize  him  :  he  is  no  longer  the  same  ;  what 
he  utters  is  no  longer  the  word  of  life.  You  exclaim  : 
"  What  has  become  of  my  model  pastor,  my  saint .''" 
.  .  .  for  you  hear  nothing  now  but  declamation,  or 
a  sing-song  speech  ...  a  uniform  tone  which 
utters  the  denunciation  :  "  Depart  ye  cursed  into  ever- 
lasting fire,"  and  the  invitation  :  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of 
my  Father,"  in  the  same  strain.  .  .  .  You  hear 
what  you  have  heard  a  hundred  times  before — a  poor 
man  who,  with  a  painful  sense  of  effort,  is  doing  his 
best  to  evoke  refractory  thoughts  and  phrases,  and 


252  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

are  almost  led  to  doubt  whether  he  is  not  acting  a 
part. 

This  monotony,  this  dull  uniformity,  this  mannerism 
must  be  abandoned,  and  we  must  resume  our  person- 
ality— our  own  minds  and  hearts — enlarged  and  inspir- 
ed by  the  breath  of  God  ;  .  .  .  otherwise,  by  persist- 
ing in  that  dismal  tone,  that  frigidly  philosophical 
style,  that  finely  spun  phraseology,  that  speech  without 
emphasis,  which  characterizes  the  generality  of  our 
sermons  nowadays,  we  shall  wholly  lose  our  time,  our 
pains,  and  perchance  our  souls  also.     .     .     . 

Can  it,  indeed,  be  that  we  are  wanting  in  a  just 
sense  of  our  mission,  and  that  we  do  not  adequately 
estimate  the  object  which  those  who  speak  in  God's 
name  should  have  in  view  1  The  end  of  preaching  is 
to  bring  back  the  souls  of  men  to  the  Creator. 

In  this  respect  also,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  the 
philosophical  spirit,  and  a  tendency  to  controversy, 
have  turned  us  aside  from  our  proper  aim  and  the  end 
of  all  our  efforts.  Take  away  the  accent  of  conviction 
from  a  sermon,  divest  it  of  energetic  faith,  and  what 
is  left  thereof  to  the  hearers  }  Mere  sounding  phrases, 
and  nothing  more. 

Now,  let  me  ask,  are  you  aware  of  the  enemies 
with  whomx  you  have  to  deal,  and  the  difficulties 
which  you  have  to  contend,  against  .'*  The  object  set 
before  you  is  to  redeem  the  hearts  of  men,  who  in 
their  thirst,  their  rage  for  happiness,  have  given  them- 


The  Power  and  Accent  of  Conviction.        253 

selves  up  to  the  sensual,  visible,  intoxicating  things 
which  surround  them.  You  will  have  to  do  battle 
with  the  human  passions  :  to  say  to  pride,  be  abased  ; 
to  voluptuousness,  be  accursed  ;  to  the  love  of  gold, 
renounce  your  avarice  and  be  bountiful  .  .  .  and  you 
fancy  that  you  will  succeed  in  the  encounter  by  the 
use  of  mere  phrases  ;  forgetting,  perchance,  that  those 
passions  can  make  better  phrases  than  yours.  They 
know  how  to  give  them  life,  and  will  hurl  them  at 
you,  glowing  with  a  fire  which  will  speedily  devour 
your  cold  and  meagre  speeches  .  .  .  Nothing  can 
restrain  and  subdue  the  passions  but  the  inspiration, 
the  power  of  God.  .  .  . 

It  is  high  time  that  we  should  resume  the  accent 
of  conviction  in  our  ministrations.  Having  that,  the 
soul  is  perfectly  at  ease,  and,  feeling  sure  of  its  foot- 
ing, cherishes  the  widest  benevolence.  .  .  .  Why 
should  it  be  troubled,  knowing  that  it  is  secure  in  the 
Power  on  which  it  relies }  It  is  only  those  powers 
which  doubt  their  own  strength  that  are  suspicious 
and  wavering.  And  when  God  is  with  us,  we  cannot 
fail  to  entertain  profound  pity  for  the  weaknesses,  the 
prejudices,  the  profanities,  and  the  false  reasonings  of 
humanity. 


CHAPTER   X. 

ACTION. 

Action  should  be  :  first,  true  and  natural  ;  secondly,  concentrated  ; 
thirdly,  edifying — It  should  be  cultivated — How  cultivated  by  the 
Society  of  Jesus — Suggestions. 

Action  is  not  mere  gesture,  neither  is  it  motion  nor 
sound.  It  is  the  manifestation  of  the  thoughts  and 
sentiments  of  the  soul  through  the  bodily  organs.  It 
is  the  soul  which,  unable  to  reveal  itself,  makes  its 
material  exterior  the  medium  of  communicating  its 
conceptions  of  truth  and  love  to  the  souls  of  others. 

The  principle  of  action  should  be  the  heart.  .  .  . 
Action  itself  may  be  in  the  voice,  in  gesture,  in  the 
face,  in  the  hand,  in  demeanor  generally,  and  even  in 
silence.     .     .     . 

Action  plays  a  conspicuous  part  in  eloquence. 
We  are  familiar  with  what  Demosthenes  said  on  the 
subject.  Being  asked  three  times  what  was  the  first 
quality  in  an  orator,  he  thrice  replied  : — Action.  This 
is  an  exaggerated  judgment  ;  but  Demosthenes  pro- 
bably estimated  action  in  proportion  to  the  pains 
which  its  acquirement  had  cost  him  :  nevertheless,  it 


Action.  255 

is  certain  that  action  adds  greatly  to  the  clearness, 
the  weight,  the  impressiveness,  and  the  power  of 
thought.  It  is  the  charm  of  eloquence.  Saint 
François  de  Sales  writes  : — "  You  may  utter  volumes, 
and  yet  if  you  do  not  utter  them  well,  it  is  lost  labor, 
Speak  but  little,  and  that  little  well,  and  you  may 
effect  much." 

Only  a  few  are  capable  of  appreciating  the  in- 
trinsic value  of  a  discourse  ;  whereas  all  can  see 
whether  you  speak  from  an  inward  sense  of  the  truth 
— from  the  heart  and  from  personal  conviction. 

It  is  more  especially  upon  the  people  that  action 
produces  a  powerful  effect  ;  it  attracts,  it  transports 
them.  A  preacher  who  possesses  sterling  and  noble 
ideas,  who  has  genuine  sentiment  and  true  action,  is 
irresistible  with  them.  Such  weapons  will  assuredly 
do  great  havoc  among  them  ;  or,  as  I  should  rather 
say,  will  save  many.  They  may  not  always  admit 
their  discomfiture  :  but  they  will  not  hesitate  to  con- 
fess that  your  words  are  weighty  and  true,  and  tell 
against  them. 

But  in  order  to  be  impressive,  action  must  be  :  first, 
true  and  natural  ;  secondly,  concentrated  ;  thirdly, 
edifying.     .     .     . 

I.  In  the  first  place,  the  preacher  should  be  him- 
self, and  should  speak  like  a  man.  It  is  preeminent- 
ly in  the  pulpit  that  every  thing  should  be  genuine  : 
that   every   accessory   should    harmonize   with    the 


256  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

thoughts  ;  that  the  eye,  the  look,  and  the  hand  should 
corroborate  what  is  uttered  by  the  lips. 

Strange  to  say,  hardly  any  attention  is  paid  to 
this  point.  Once  in  the  pulpit,  it  seems  to  be  taken 
for  granted  that  no  effort  is  required  to  give  the  truth 
distinctness.  Words  are  strung  on  to  words,  and  any 
tone  of  voice  is  deemed  appropriate.  .  .  .  The 
preacher  speaks  as  nobody  in  the  world  ever  spoke  : 
he  bawls,  chants,  or  sings  without  modulation  and 
without  feeling.  Hence,  a  malicious  wag  on  hearing 
a  preacher  pronounce  those  terrible  words  :  "  Depart 
ye  cursed  !"  in  a  bland  tone,  turned  to  his  companion, 
and  said  :  "  Come  here,  my  lad,  and  let  me  embrace 
you  ;  that  is  what  the  preacher  has  just  expressed." 

Everywhere  else,  men  speak  ;  they  speak  at  the 
bar  and  the  tribune  ;  but  they  no  longer  speak  in  the 
pulpit,  for  there  we  only  meet  with  a  factitious  and 
artificial  language,  and  a  false  tone.     .     .     . 

This  style  of  speaking  is  only  tolerated  in  the 
Church,  because,  unfortunately,  it  is  so  general  there  ; 
elsewhere  it  would  not  be  endured.  .  .  .  What  would 
be  thought  of  a  man  who  should  converse  in  a  similar 
way  in  a  drawing-room  }  He  would  certainly  pro- 
voke many  a  smile. 

Some  time  ago,  there  was  a  warden  at  the  Pan- 
theon— a  good  sort  of  fellow  in  his  way — who,  in 
enumerating  the  beauties  of  the  monument,  adopted 
precisely  the  tone  of  many  of  our   preachers,  and 


Action.  257 

never  failed  thereby  to  excite  the  hilarity  of  the  visi- 
tors, who  were  as  much  amused  with  his  style  of  ad- 
dress as  with  the  objects  of  interest  which  he  pointed 
out  to  them. 

A  man  who  has  not  a  natural  and  true  delivery, 
should  not  be  allowed  to  occupy  the  pulpit  ;  from 
thence,  at  least,  every  thing  that  is  false  should  be 
summarily  banished.     .     .     . 

But  is  it  so  very  difficult  to  be  one's  self  .'*  Assume 
your  usual  voice,  your  usual  manner,  modifying  them 
according  to  the  number  of  your  hearers,  and  the 
truth  which  you  are  about  to  set  forth.  Let  your 
speech  be  frank,  sincere,  cordial,  revealing  a  true  and 
affectionate  soul.  Be  yourself,  and  be  persuaded  that 
to  be  so  suits  you  best.  Make  manifest  your  heart, 
your  soul  ;  for  there  is  nothing  so  attractive  as  a  soul. 
Saint  Catherine  of  Sienna  said  that  if  a  soul  could  be 
seen,  she  believed  that  people  would  die  of  happiness 
at  the  sight. 

Look  at  the  man  who  has  a  cause  to  plead,  or  one 
who  is  moved  with  a  strong  passion  ;  he  is  always 
true — true  even  to  grandeur. 

In  these  days  of  mistrust,  every  thing  that  is  false 
should  be  set  aside  ;  and  the  best  way  of  correcting 
one's  self  in  that  respect,  as  regards  preaching,  is 
frequently  to  listen  to  certain  monotonous  and  vehe- 
ment preachers.  We  shall  come  away  in  such  disgust, 
and  with  such  a  horror  of  their  delivery,  that  we  shall 


258  TJie   Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

prefer  condemning  ourselves  to  silence  rather  than 
imitate  them.  The  instant  you  abandon  the  natural 
and  the  true,  you  forego  the  right  to  be  beheved,  as 
well  as  the  right  of  being  listened  to. 

2dly.  Action  should  be  concentrated  :  that  is  to 
say,  it  should  proceed  from  a  soul  which  is  itself  con- 
vinced, penetrated,  fervent  ;  which  puts  a  restraint 
upon  itself  that  it  may  not  say  all  that  it  feels  :  unless 
it  be  from  time  to  time,  like  the  flames  which  escape 
at  intervals  from  a  volcano.  Inward  fervor  har- 
monizes with  the  sacred  word,  whereas  excessive 
noise  and  motion  are  wholly  unsuited  to  it  If  a 
passionate  outburst  sometimes  escapes  us,  it  should 
be  repressed  forthwith.  Père  Ravignan  is  admirable 
in  this  respect  :  after  thundering  at  his  audience, 
he  immediately  resumes  the  most  benignant  counte- 
nance. 

In  the  first  place,  the  preacher  should  be  calm; 
master  of  himself  as  well  as  of  his  subject.  He 
should  have  a  steady  demeanor,  should  keep  his 
forces  well  in  hand,  not  relinquish  his  hold  over 
them,  unless  it  be  designedly,  and  never  lose  self- 
control  :  —  be  carried  away  and  yet  possess  himself, 
and  retain  self-possession  while  allowing  himself  to  be 
carried  away. 

Vocal  power  and  bodily  motion  are  frequently  very 
much  abused. 

The  more  a  man  shouts,  the  greater  effect  he  is 


Action.  259 

believed  to  produce,  and  the  greater  orator  he  is 
held  to  be.  Often,  however,  it  is  quite  the  reverse. 
Genuine  passion  —  passion  driven  to  extremities — 
speaks  low,  says  little,  and  that  little  in  a  few  de- 
tached words.  The  most  captivating  eloquence  is 
that  which  says  much  in  a  few  words,  and  that 
noiselessly.     .     .     . 

The  vocal  power  is  the  animal  part  of  man  ;  he 
shares  it  in  common  with  the  brute  creation,  who 
often  possess  it  in  a  high  degree.  But  the  distin- 
guishing sign  of  intelligence  is  the  consonant.  Well- 
educated  men  attend  less  to  sound  than  to  articu- 
lation. The  vowel  is  the  letter'  that  kills  ;  the  con- 
sonant is  the  spirit  which  vivifies. 

Bodily  motion  should  be  moderate  ;  too  much 
motion  wearies  the  preacher  and  the  audience  like- 
wise, and  distracts  their  attention.  One  may  be 
eloquent  without  much  gesticulation.  There  is  a 
famous  preacher  who  generally  speaks  with  his  hand 
in  his  robes,  whose  discourses,  nevertheless,  are  very 
powerful.  .  .  .  Here,  also,  the  same  reflection 
which  was  made  above  recurs  to  us  ;  namely,  that  a 
profound  passion  is  scarcely  ever  accompanied  with 
agitation  ;  it  is  unmoved,  prostrate,  and  does  not 
manifest  itself  except  by  occasional  sudden  out- 
bursts. Mistakes  are  often  made  on  this  score,  and 
that  is  thought  to  be  a  fervent  sermon  which  is  de- 
livered with  much  bawling  and  much  gesticulation. 


26o  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

It  is  true,  as  M.  de  Cormenin  remarks,  that  the 
people  are  fond  of  expressive  gestures,  such  as  are 
visible  at  a  distance,  and  above  the  heads  of  the 
congregation  ;  that  they  also  like  a  powerful  and 
thrilling  voice  ;  .  .  .  but  all  this  cannot  be  kept 
up  long,  for  preacher  and  hearers  soon  grow  tired  of 
it.  Then,  again,  the  people  are  fond  of  variety,  and 
a  monotonous  voice  sends  them  to  sleep.  That  the 
delivery  of  a  sermon  should  sometimes  be  accom- 
panied with  significant  gestures,  and  that  emotion 
should  occasionally  vent  itself  in  an  outburst,  is  all 
well  enough  ;  but  compress  such  power  as  much  as 
possible,  so  that  it  may  be  felt  that  you  possess 
within  your  own  soul  a  force  threefold  greater  than 
you  outwardly  manifest.  .  .  .  The  more  vehement 
you  wish  your  sermon  to  be,  the  more  you  should 
restrain  the  air  in  its  passage,  forcing  it  to  make  its 
way  in  thrilling  explosions  and  a  resounding  articula- 
tion.    Then  many  will  fall  by  the  sword  of  the  word. 

3dly.  Action  should  be  edifying. 

The  bearing  of  a  man  who  speaks  in  the  name  of 
the  Gospel  should  be  full  of  grace  and  tnitJi.  It  is 
most  desirable  that  he  should  possess  knowledge  and 
talent,  but  those  endowments  do  not  suffice  ;  he  must 
possess,  in  addition,  a  virtuous,  yea,  even  a  holy 
exterior.  Frenchmen  are  much  more  sensitive  on 
this  point  than  is  usually  thought.  A  godly  man  at 
once  inspires  their  respect  and  veneration  ;  and  were 


Action.  261 

a  saint  to  appear  in  our  midst,  it  is  certain  that  he 
would  reproduce  many  of  the  scenes  of  the  middle 
ages.  A  saint  is  essentially  a  man  beloved  by 
the  people,  because  he  is  surrounded  with  a  Divine 
halo. 

The  Christian  orator  makes  his  appearance  with 
simplicity  and  modesty.  He  kneels  and  bows  pro- 
foundly, rises  up,  and  then  looks  round  upon  his 
audience  with  a  kindly  expression,  devoutly  makes 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  then  begins  his  sermon, 
thinking  only  how  to  arrest  the  attention  of  his 
hearers. 

The  time  is  happily  long  gone  by  when  the 
preacher  used  to  enter  the  pulpit  with  great  formality, 
a  flushed  countenance,  and  hair  most  carefully  got 
up  ;  then  place  by  his  side  a  fine  white  handkerchief, 
sometimes  of  costly  silk,  which  ever  and  anon  he 
methodically  passed  over  his  face.  These  airs  no 
longer  suit  the  times  :  the  preacher  nowadays  must 
not  be  engrossed  with  self,  with  his  handkerchief,  or 
his  surplice,  or  his  hair  ;  neither  must  he  cause  others 
to  be  taken  up  with  such  trifles.  In  the  pulpit  the 
man  should  disappear,  and  the  apostle  alone  be 
seen.     .     .     . 

The  people,  who  have  an  exquisite  notion  of  pro- 
priety, are  very  sensitive  on  all  such  matters  ;  and 
God  often  derides  our  affected  words  and  actions  by 
rendering  them  vain  and  barren,  and  by  making  use 


202  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

of  the  most  insignificant  things  to  convert  the  souls 
of  men. 

A  converted  Parisian  operative,  a  man  of  a  wilful 
but  frank  disposition,  full  of  energy  and  spirit,  who 
had  often  spoken  with  great  success  at  the  clubs 
composed  of  men  of  his  own  class,  was  asked  by  the 
priest  who  had  reconciled  him  to  God  to  inform  him 
by  what  instrumentality  he  who  had  once  been  so 
far  estranged  from  religion  had  eventually  been 
restored  to  the  faith.  "  Your  doing  so,"  said  his 
interrogator,  "  may  be  useful  to  me  in  my  efforts  to 
reclaim  others." 

"  I  would  rather  not,"  replied  he  ;  "  for  I  must 
candidly  tell  you  that  you  do  not  figure  very  con- 
spicuously in  the  case." 

"  No  matter,"  said  the  other  ;  "  it  will  not  be  the 
first  time  that  I  have  heard  the  same  remark." 

"  Well,  if  you  must  hear  it,  I  can  tell  you  how  it 
took  place,  in  a  few  words.  A  religietise  had  pestered 
me  to  read  your  little  book — pardon  the  expression  : 
I  used  to  speak  in  that  style  in  those  days.  On 
reading  a  few  pages,  I  was  so  impressed  that  I  felt 
a  strong  desire  to  see  you. 

"  I  was  told  that  you  preached  in  a  certain  church, 
and  I  went  to  hear  you.  Your  sermon  had  some 
further  effect  upon  me  ;  but  to  speak  frankly,  very 
little,  comparatively,  indeed,  none  at  all.  What  did 
much  more  for  me  was  your  open,  simple,  and  good- 


Action.  263 

natured  manner,  and,  above  all,  your  ill-combed  hair  ; 
for  I  have  always  detested  those  priests  whose  heads 
remind  one  of  a  hair-dresser  s  assistant  ;  and  I  said  to 
myself: — ' That  man  forgets  himself  on  our  behalf; 
we  ought,  therefore,  to  do  something  for  his  sake/ 
Thereupon  I  determined  to  pay  you  a  visit,  and  you 
bagged  me.  Such  was  the  beginning  and  end  of  the 
affair." 

The  thought  should  never  be  absent  from  our 
minds  that  we  preach  the  Gospel,  and  that  the  Gospel 
is  preeminent  in  inculcating  love  toward  humanity. 
Away,  then,  with  all  domineering  and  dictatorial  airs  ! 
.  .  .  Away  with  all  violent  language  !  The  people 
regard  it  as  the  ebullition  of  anger,  and  are  not  at  all 
edified  thereby. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  order  to  succeed,  the  heart 
of  the  preacher  must  first  be  penetrated  with  what 
he  teaches  ;  an  appropriate  accent  v/ill  follow  of  itself. 
There  are  men  who  carry  about  with  them  something 
godlike.  .  .  .  Such  men  are  eagerly  listened  to, 
they  are  believed,  and  then  loved. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  obvious  that 
we  should  train  ourselves  to  obtain  proficiency  in 
action. 

Action  is  the  manifestation  of  the  thoughts  of  the 
soul  through  the  medium  of  the  body.  But  the  body 
often  rebels  and  weighs  down  the  soul  ;  and  in  this, 
as  well  as  in  many  other  things,  requires  to  be  sup- 


264  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

pled,  mortified,  disciplined  to  obedience.  However 
strong  the  soul  may  be,  it  rarely  gets  the  mastery  over 
the  body  at  the  outset,  and  does  its  part  very  ineffi- 
ciently. It  is  the  same  with  soldiers.  When  a  young 
conscript  first  joins  his  regiment  he  is  heavy  and  awk- 
ward, and  his  mihtary  arms  seem  a  burden  to  him. 
Six  months  later  all  this  is  changed  :  he  is  quick  and 
smart,  and  carries  his  arms  with  quite  a  French  grace. 
The  same  transformation  may  be  effected  as  regards 
public  speaking. 

One  who  has  had  considerable  experience  in  the 
direction  of  seminaries,  has  written  the  following  ; 
which  I  feel  it  a  duty  to  transcribe  entire  : — 

"  It  is  incumbent  on  a  preacher  to  possess  orato- 
rical action,  and  to  practise  himself  therein  until  he 
has  acquired  it.  Conscience,  indeed,  must  tell  him 
that  he  ought  not  to  neglect  a  matter  on  wdiich  the 
success  of  his  ministry  depends  ;  and  that  if,  to  the 
mischief  of  men's  souls,  theatrical  actors  spare  no 
pains  to  attain  perfection  in  action,  the  preacher 
should  strive,  with  at  least  an  equal  zeal,  to  become 
proficient  in  that  respect  for  the  good  of  men's  souls. 
What  !  shall  the  ministers  of  God  weaken  by  vicious 
action  the  force  of  all  they  say,  while  the  ministers  of 
Satan,  by  consummate  skill  in  action,  redeem  tne 
vanity  of  their  speeches,  and  impassion  the  souls  of 
their  audience  !  Surely,  this  would  be  a  disgrace  to 
the  clergy,  and  an  outrage  on  the  word  of  God. 


Action.  265 

"  If  it  be  objected  that  in  the  case  under  considera- 
tion art  is  useless,  because  nature  teaches  what  is 
needful,  we  reply,  with  Quintilian  : — Nihil  licet  esse 
perfectum,  nisi  ubi  natzira  cnrâ  jnvatnr.  All  talents 
are  rude  and  unformed  until  the  precepts  of  art  refine 
and  impart  to  them  that  polish  which  makes  them 
valuable.  Demosthenes  had  few  natural  gifts  for 
public  speaking  ;  but  exercise  and  experience  gave 
what  nature  had  denied  him. 

"  If  it  be  objected,  further,  that  the  Apostles  never 
learnt  the  rules  of  action,  we  reply  that  they  received 
the  power  of  miracles — a  more  than  adequate  com- 
pensation for  human  eloquence.  That,  moreover,  they 
received  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  enabled 
them  to  proclaim  the  Gospel  worthily.  That,  inspir- 
ed by  that  Divine  Spirit,  they  were  eloquent  in  action 
as  well  as  in  speech  ;  and  that  St.  Paul  would  not 
have  been  listened  to  on  the  Areopagus  unless  he  had 
been  able  to  captivate  the  eloquent  people  whom  he 
addressed,  as  well  by  external  action  as  by  the  sub- 
limity of  his  language. 

''  Saint  Charles  directed  that  the  candidates  for 
holy  orders  in  his  seminary  should  be  exercised 
several  times  a  week  in  public  speaking  ;  and  the 
Church  has  always  followed  the  same  practice.  The 
Fathers  also  bestowed  much  attention  on  the  forma- 
tion of  speech.  '  Deprive  me  of  every  thing  else, 
says  Saint  Gregory  of  Nazianzen,  '  but  leave  me  elo- 


266  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

quence,  and  I  shall  never  regret  the  voyages  which  I 
have  made  in  order  to  study  it.'  "  * 

What  we  are  most  deficient  in  is  articulation — that 
powerful  articulation  which  isolates,  engraves,  and 
chisels  a  thought  .  .  .  which  fills  the  ear  with 
harmony  and  the  soul  with  truth  ;  which  gives  the 
orator  an  extraordinary  power  of  animation,  by 
bringing  into  play  the  whole  nervous  system.  We 
have  already  remarked  that  the  force  of  a  word  is 
entirely  in  the  consonant,  whereas  it  is  often  laid  on 
the  vowel.  The  emission  of  the  vowel  is  the  rude 
block  ;  the  consonant  is  the  artist's  chisel,  which 
works  it  into  a  masterpiece.  ...  It  appears  to 
be  frequently  imagined  that  it  requires  as  much  effort 
to  discharge  waves  of  air  as  to  hurl  a  heavy  club  into 
space  ;  but  it  is  not  so  in  the  least.  What  is  needed 
is  that  the  air  should  be  compressed  and  triturated, 
and  reduced  into  expressive  and  harmonious  sounds. 
It  is  from  misapprehension  on  this  score  that  so  many 
preachers  fume  and  tire  themselves  and  others,  and 
that  some  appear  like  men  who  disgorge  words  which 
they  have  swallowed  by  mistake.  A  little  practice 
would  prevent  them  from  falling  into  these  and 
similar  aberrations. 

At  the  same  time,  we  should  not  practise,  as  is 
often  done,  upon  every  sermon  which  we  preach,  for 

*  Traité  de  la  Prédication.     By  M.   Hamon,  Curé  de  Saint-Sulpice. 


Action.  267 

by  so  doing  we  shall  be  apt  to  deliver  them  very 
badly.  It  is  scarcely  in  nature  to  prepare  sentiments 
beforehand.  As  M.  de  Cormenin  satirically  puts  it  : 
— "  Be  impassioned,  thunder,  rage,  weep,  up  to  the 
fifth  word,  of  the  third  sentence,  of  the  tenth  para- 
graph, of  the  tenth  leaf  How  easy  that  would  be  ! 
above  all,  how  very  natural  !" 

The  course  to  be  pursued  is  this  : — we  should 
practise  ourselves  in  the  delivery  of  the  several  parts 
of  a  discourse,  such  as  the  expository,  the  demonstra- 
tive, and  especially  those  which  give  expression  to  the 
different  passions.  That  done,  and  when  once  in 
the  pulpit,  such  studies  should  cease  to  occupy  the 
mind. 

The  exercise  thus  insisted  on  is  practised  in  other 
professions.  Men  who  devote  themselves  to  the 
theatre,  cultivate  their  voices  and  their  limbs.  Young 
law  students  and  advocates  have  their  conferences, 
where  they  train  themselves  to  plead  at  the  bar  ;  and 
yet  those  who  are  called  to  save  souls  neglect  to 
cultivate  the  talents  which  God  has  given  them  ! 

This  is  the  usual  process  : — A  young  man  com- 
poses a  sermon  while  at  college,  which  is  generally 
made  up  of  odds  and  ends  and  quotations,  and  in 
putting  them  together  he  does  his  best  not  to  be  him- 
self With  this  stuff  he  mounts  the  pulpit,  it  may 
be  of  a  town  church  or  even  of  a  cathedral  ;  and 
behold  him  a  full-fledged  preacher  !     And  then,  for- 


268  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

sooth,  astonishment  is  expressed  because  the  faithful 
are  bored,  and  do  not  come  to  Hsten  to  us  !  Tlie 
wonder  is  that  so  many  attend  our  sermons. 

But  let  us  be  just  :  all  do  not  entertain  this  idea 
of  sacred  eloquence.  By  certain  religious  orders,  the 
Jesuits  for  example,  it  is  regarded  in  quite  a  different 
light.  I  crave  pardon  for  revealing  their  family 
secrets  ;  but  it  is  for  the  good  of  souls. 

A  novice  among  the  Jesuits,  no  matter  what  he 
may  have  been  previously — whether  a  lawyer,  author, 
preacher,  canon,  grand  vicar,  bishop,  or  even  a 
cardinal — must  attend  a  reading-class  three  or  four 
times  a  week.  There  he  is  made  to  read  like  a  child, 
is  taught  to  articulate  and  accentuate,  and  every  now 
and  then  is  stopped  while  those  present  are  called  upon 
to  point  out  the  merits  and  defects  in  his  reading. 
This  training  is  persisted  in  until  his  pronunciation 
is  perfect,  and  he  is  free  from  all  disagreeable  accent. 

But  that  is  not  all  :  every  Monday  during  his 
noviciate,  or  during  the  term  of  his  studies,  that  is, 
for  five,  six,  eight,  or  ten  years,  he  has  to  undergo  a 
training  in  the  tones,  which  consists  in  his  being  made 
to  récite  what  is  called  the  formula  of  the  general 
tones — a  short  discourse,  comprising  all  the  tones 
ordinarily  used  in  oratorical  compositions  ;  such  as  the 
tone  of  persuasion,  of  menace,  of  kindness,  of  anger, 
of  the  mercy  and  justice  of  God,  of  prayer,  and  of 
authority.      Thereby  the  young   preacher  is  taught 


Action.  269 

how  to  supple,  to  break  in  his  own  organism,  and  to 
adapt  it  to  those  different  tones. 

After  these  come  the  special  tones.  This  consists 
of  a  short  discourse,  to  be  composed  in  two  hours  on 
a  given  text,  and  must  contain  certain  specified  strokes 
of  oratory.  Three  or  four  of  the  younger  novices  are 
exercised  in  this  way,  exclusive  of  the  sermons  which 
are  preached  in  the  refectory. 

But  the  most  profitable  part  of  the  exercise  is  this, 
that  after  reciting  his  tones,  the  preacher  must  re- 
main in  the  pulpit  while  the  master  of  the  novices 
asks  some  of  the  spectators  what  they  think  of  its 
substance,  form,  expression,  etc.,  the  poor  patient 
being  present  and  obliged  to  hear  all  his  faults  de- 
tailed. This,  however,  is  done  in  all  charity  ;  and 
moreover,  his  good  qualities  are  pointed  out  in  a 
similar  way. 

These  are  most  interesting  meetings.  They  com- 
prise, besides  young  lawyers  and  ecclesiastics,  men  of 
general  experience,  logicians,  poets,  and  preachers, 
who  are  all  invited  to  express  their  opinion  with  the 
greatest  freedom. 

The  youngest  are  interrogated  first  ;  for  the  young 
are  naturally  fastidious,  and  generally  find  much  to 
blame.  Time,  however,  will  correct  them  of  that 
fault.  After  these  come  the  older  novices,  then  the 
Jesuits  well  trained  to  preaching  ;  and  lastly,  the 
master  of  the  novices,  who  sums   up   the   different 


270  The  Clergy  and  the  Ptdpit. 

opinions  elicited,  and  then  proceeds  to  expound  the 
science.  It  sometimes  happens,  however,  that  the 
judgments  passed  are  so  well  formulated  and  so  well 
based,  that,  despite  his  desire  to  criticise  or  to  ap- 
plaud, the  master  is  obliged  to  modify  his  own  opi- 
nions. 

When  the  young  preacher  leaves  the  pulpit,  he 
retires  to  note  down  his  defects  and  merits,  which  he 
is  subsequently  expected  to  read  over  from  time  to 
time. 

One  excellent  feature  in  this  exercise  is  the  en- 
couragement which  it  is  designed  to  impart  ;  for  be- 
sides pointing  out  defects,  no  efforts  are  spared  to 
develope  in  the  novices  the  talents  which  God  has 
given  them.  They  are  made  to  understand  that  a 
man  may  do  good  even  though  he  be  subject  to  half 
a  dozen  drawbacks.  Mistakes  are  often  made  on  this 
score.  One  qualification  only  may  suffice  to  render  a 
man  a  remarkable  orator,  whereas  another  may  be 
free  from  all  obvious  defects,  and  yet  be  a  sorry 
speaker.  The  Lord  deliver  us  from  a  faultless 
preacher  !  for  he  is  generally  a  very  bore,  as  incapa- 
ble of  a  trait  of  genius  as  he  is  of  a  blunder.  Always 
intent  on  guarding  against  this  and  that  defect,  he 
loses  his  personality.  He  is  no  longer  a  man  ;  he 
is  no  longer  a  priest  :  he  is  merely  a  scholar  doing 
his  recitation.     .     .     . 

In   order  to  form  a  young   speaker   into  a  good 


Action.  271 

preacher,  he  should  first  be  set  to  address  the  lower 
classes.  .  .  .  Among  such  audiences  he  will  be 
better  able  to  discover  his  own  special  talent,  and  to 
utilize  his  qualifications.  The  Jesuits  pursue  a  similar 
course. 

The  young  Jesuit  is  sent  to  address  the  inmates  of 
prisons  and  hospitals  ;  if  in  orders,  he  is  charged  with 
missions  in  rural  districts  ;  if  unordained,  he  is  put  to 
catechise  ;  but  always  accompanied  by  the  indispen- 
sable socms,  who  is  not  chary  of  criticising  or  ap- 
plauding him.  It  is  doubtless  owing  to  this  training 
that  the  members  of  the  Society  of  Jesus  have  acquir- 
ed that  standing,  power,  and  unction  for  which  they 
are  so  conspicuous. 

Another  advantage  of  this  training  is  that  it 
teaches  the  science  of  life,  and  imparts  wisdom  in 
forming  opinions. 

If  a  young  priest  has  not  thoroughly  studied  the 
difficulties  of  public  speaking,  he  is  apt  to  think  that 
the  art  of  preaching  consists  in  composing  a  sermon, 
learning  it  by  rote,  and  then  delivering  it  without 
tripping.  If  he  finds  that  he  is  considered  to  have 
acquitted  himself  tolerably  well,  he  is  thenceforward 
disposed  to  dogmatize  remorselessly,  and  to  tolerate 
no  appeal  from  his  irrevocable  verdicts,  with  all  the 
stateliness  of  a  man  who  has  the  satisfaction  of  not 
knowing  what  he  says. 

But  when  a  man  has  studied  and  labored,  say,  for 


2/2  The  Clergy  and  the  Piclpit. 

fifteen  years,  he  becomes  more  indulgent  and  moder- 
ate, and  begins  to  understand  that  there  may  be  other 
ways  of  doing  good  besides  his  own.  A  priest  who 
was  once  called  upon  to  preach  before  several  others 
of  the  same  profession,  complained  that  their  presence 
rather  embarrassed  him.  Whereupon  one  of  our 
most  celebrated  orators  remarked  : — "  It  is  far  better 
for  you  to  have  to  deal  with  a  dozen  of  our  first-rate 
preachers  than  with  an  equal  number  of  curates  or 
even  collegians." 

Practice,  therefore,  is  indispensable.  But  it  will  be 
urged  :  "  Where  is  the  time  to  come  from  }  One 
has  so  much  to  do  during  the  four  years  passed  at 
college,  and  afterward  in  the  work  of  the  ministry." 
Very  true  ;  still  we  are  bound  to  pay  attention  to  the 
most  essential  requirements  of  our  vocation  :  and 
should  not  preaching  be  of  the  number  nowadays  1 
We  learn  dogmatic  theology,  designed  to  serve  as  the 
ground-work  for  solid  lectures  ;  but  if  nobody  comes 
to  hear  them,  or  if  they  send  the  audience  to  sleep  1 
.  .  .  Ethics  also  are  learnt,  and  the  solution  of 
difficulties  which  occur  at  the  confessional  :  but  what 
if  the  people  do  not  come  to  confession .?  .  .  .  It 
should  ever  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  object  and  aim 
of  our  studies  is  propter  nos  homines  et  propter  nostram 
sahitem.  Then,  again,  might  we  not  talk  less  about 
past  heresies  and  errors,  and  be  more  taken  up  with 
the  time  present }     Might  we  not  also  devote  less 


Action.  273 

attention  to  those  doubtful  questions  which  are  the 
great  temptation  as  well  as  the  great  bane  of  profes- 
sors of  theology  and  philosophy,  who  dilate  at  great 
length  on  the  opposite  opinions  held  regarding  them, 
never  omitting  to  add  their  own,  and  generally  wind 
up  somewhat  in  this  style  :  Decide  as  you  please  ? 

I  submit  these  considerations  to  the  wisdom  and 
piety  of  the  directors  of  our  colleges,  who  are  well 
aware  that  a  priest  should  not  be  learned  for  himself 
only,  but  should  be  capable  of  communicating  what 
he  knows  to  others,  and  of  securing  their  attachment 
to  it. 

Things  are  taken  for  granted  which  no  longer  ex- 
ist. It  is  supposed  that  the  churches  are  full,  that 
careless  Christians  attend  the  services,  and  that  the 
confessionals  are  frequented  ;  all  of  which  are  often 
mere  gratuituous  assumptions.  Something  must  be 
done  before  such  notions  are  borne  out  by  facts  ; 
namely,  our  priests  must  be  taught  how  to  attract  men 
to  the  church  and  the  confessional,  and  then  to  in- 
struct them  when  they  are  there. 

Lastly,  the  young  students  might  meet  together 
during  the  vacations,  and  mutually  aid  one  another 
by  their  common  experience.  Parish  priests  might 
also  meet  in  a  similar  manner,  and  communicate  to 
each  other  their  reflections  and  the  progress  of  their 
labors,  in  all  simplicity  and  charity,  just  as  young 
lawyers  do.     Then  we  might  anticipate  the  happiness 


2/4  ^/^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

of  seeing  every  thing  that  is  false,  borrowed,  factitious, 
artificial,  stiff,  vehement,  trite,  and  noisy,  together 
with  all  unmeaning  action,  monotony,  and  ennui, 
descend  from  the  pulpit  ;  and  of  seeing  their  places 
occupied  by  the  true,  the  simple,  the  natural,  the 
powerful  :  in  a  word,  by  the  Gospel. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

STUDY. 

Study  a  Duty — The  State  of  the  World  calls  for  Knowledge  on  the 
part  of  the  Clergy  —  Knowledge  has  always  been  one  of  the 
Glories  of  Religion — All  the  eminent  Men  in  the  Church  were 
Men  of  Study — Reasons  adduced  for  not  studying,  answered: 
Want  of  Leisure  ;  natural  Aptitude  ;  the  Plea  of  having  already 
studied  sufficiently  ;  that  one  is  fully  equal  to  the  Requirements 
of  the  People  committed  to  his  Charge. 

From  what  has  been  said  above,  it  will  readily  be 
inferred  that  much  study  is  called  for  on  our  part — 
study  of  the  sciences  and  study  of  mankind,  study  of 
books  and  study  of  the  human  heart.  ...  In  order 
to  attain  a  noble  simplicity,  to  acquire  ease,  and  to 
be  natural,  a  man  must  possess  profound  knowledge. 
I  even  ventuie  to  say  that  a  little  study  leads  us  away 
from  the  natural,  whereas  much  study  conducts  us 
to  it. 

But  there  are  other  and  still  stronger  motives  for 
study  on  our  part  :  namely,  duty,  and  the  salvation  of 
mankind.  It  has  been  said,  and  that  truly,  that  piety 
is  the  first  and  most  essential  requirement.  We  admi'r 
that  it  is  so  ;  but  genuine  piety  consists  in  the  faithful 


276  The  Clergy  and  tJie  Pulpit. 

discharge  of  the  duties  of  one's  station.  Now,  it  is 
absolutely  impossible  for  a  priest  at  the  present  day, 
whatever  position  he  may  occupy,  to  discharge  his 
duty  without  an  adequate  amount  of  learning. 

For,  what  is  a  priest }  He  is  the  depositary  of  the 
science  of  life,  and  is  debtor  therein  to  every  man. 
He  is  bound  to  trace  out  the  way  for  all  ;  for  the 
small  and  great,  the  young  and  aged,  the  learned  and 
ignorant,  the  humble  and  proud  together. 

He  is  bound  to  confront  human  passions  and  errors, 
to  expose  their  wiles,  to  withstand  the  assaults  of  vice, 
and  to  enlighten  the  minds  and  win  over  the  hearts 
of  men  by  the  power  of  the  Gospel.  A  priest's  need 
of  knowledge  is  truly  paramount.     .     .     . 

Hence  the  Church  has  always  recommended  study. 
The  Fathers  were  men  of  study  ;  the  men  whose 
genius  has  made  them  illustrious,  were  studious  men. 
Look  at  Bossuet  !  we  boast  of  his  fluency  ;  yes,  he 
was  fluent  ;  but  the  thought  of  the  life  which  he  led 
up  to  a  very  advanced  age  is  enough  to  make  one 
tremble.  He  generally  rose  at  two  in  the  morning, 
to  continue  a  task  hardly  interrupted.  ,Let  us  not 
deceive  ourselves  in  this  matter  :  the  labors  which 
have  redounded  to  the  glory  of  the  Church  have 
been  dearly  bought. 

Bossuet's  intense  devotion  to  study  was  notorious. 
One  day  his  gardener  accosted  him  thus  : — "  Mon- 
seigneur, I  am  very  much  put  out  ;  for  I  dig  away 


Study.  277 

and  plant  flowers,  and  you  do  not  take  the  least 
notice  of  them.  If  I  could  plant  some  John  Chry- 
sostoms  or  some  Saint  Augustines  in  my  garden  I 
should  be  much  more  successful." 

Even  in  our  own  times,  those  priests  who  effect 
any  real  good  are  unremitting  in  their  studies.  The 
rule  which  Père  Maccarthy  prescribed  for  himself 
is  appalling  : — "  My  recreations,"  said  he,  "  must  be 
short.  It  is  generally  enough  for  me  to  walk  about 
with  a  book  in  my  hand,  or  while  I  am  reciting  my 
prayers.  Unprofitable  talk  and  time  misspent  are 
crimes  in  a  priest." 

At  the  age  of  fifty,  he  could  no  longer  work  seated, 
owing  to  an  infirmity  brought  on  by  doing  a  chari- 
table act.  IJe  lay  down  on  a  sheepskin  spread  in  the 
centre  of  his  room,  and  there  worked  from  ten  to 
twelve  hours  a  day.  We  admire  his  success  ;  but  we 
here  see  what  it  cost  him.  We  complain  that  the 
faithful  do  not  come  to  our  sermons  ;  have  we  made 
any  such  efforts  as  these  }  Let  us  do  the  men  of  our 
time  this  justice,  that  whenever  they  come  in  contact 
with  a  priest  possessing  piety  and  knowledge — sound 
knowledge  which  is  not  acquired  from  books  alone — 
he  never  fails  to  make  a  lively  impression  upon  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  men  of  the  present  day 
crave  after  knowledge  :  it  is  one  of  their  fancies. 
Are  they  right  in  this,  or  are  they  to  blame  }  You 
may  think  as  you  please  on  the  subject  ;  but  we  are, 


2/8  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

nevertheless,  bound  by  the  obhgation  of  charity  to 
become  all  things  to  all  men,  that  we  may  save  all  ; 
and  among  the  means  thereto,  knowledge  is  o^ne  of 
the  most  efficacious. 

There  are  but  two  powers  in  the  world  nowadays  : 
namely,  the  power  of  wealth  and  the  power  of  talent. 

The  prestige  of  a  name,  of  authority,  and  of  dignity, 
has  passed  away.  The  fact  is  to  be  deplored  ;  but  it 
is  true.  What  are  we  to  do  in  consequence  1  We 
must  take  men  as  they  are,  in  order  to  better  them. 

As  regards  the  power  of  wealth,  we  do  not  possess 
it  ;  and  we  are  certainly  not  the  worse  for  that.  We 
are  for  the  most  part  poor,  the  offspring  of  humble 
parents  ;  and  what  Saint  Paul  said  of  the  first  Chris- 
tians is  applicable  to  us  : — "  Not  many  mighty  men, 
not  many  noble,  are  called." 

We  must  array  ourselves,  therefore,  on  the  side  of 
the  power  of  talent.  Therewith  we  may  secure  a 
hearing,  and  may  succeed  in  reclaiming  some  to  the 
faith.  .  .  .  There  are  two  ways  leading  to  religion  : 
many  are  led  thereto  by  love,  and  through  the  heart, 
and  many  likewise  by  knowledge  ;  but  when  the  two 
are  conjoined,  incalculable  good  is  the  result. 

A  priest  who  is  notoriously  ignorant  is  already 
condemned  :  he  is  morally  dead,  whatever  other 
excellent  quaUties  he  may  possess.  He  is  stigmatized 
with  some  such  remark  as  this  : — "  He  is  a  worthy 
man,  but  he  knows  nothing."    .    .    .    Thenceforward, 


Study.  279 

what  can  you  expect  him  to  effect,  even  among  pea- 
sants, who  have  heard  that  fatal  verdict  ?  The  world 
calls  for  knowledge  from  us,  and  we  are  bound  to 
supply  it.  To  that  end,  we  must  study,  I  do  not 
say  all  human  sciences,  but  we  should  acquire  some 
thoroughly,  especially  those  which  bear  upon  our 
special  duties  ;  and,  as  regards  others,  should  not  be 
what  may  be  called  "  ignorant"  of  them.  It  would  be 
disgraceful,  for  example,  if  we  were  obliged  to  refer 
to  laymen  to  explain  to  us  the  beauties  of  our  church 
architecture,  or  the  symbols  which  decorate  our 
ornaments. 

Frenchmen  like  a  bold,  animated,  lively — a  telling 
style  of  speech  ;  let  us  endeavor,  therefore,  to  attain 
it.  .  .  .  The  world  comes  to  us  ;  let  us  meet  it  half- 
way. Let  us  partake  of  its  science,  and  it  will  par- 
take of  our  religion. 

Further,  knowledge  has  always  been  one  of  the 
greatest  glories  of  the  Church.  At  the  period  of  the 
Revolution  of  '93,  even  according  to  the  testimony  of 
occasionally  prejudiced  historians,  there  was  an  im- 
mense number  of  men  among  the  clergy  of  France 
who  were  eminent  for  learning  and  talent.  Now- 
adays, we  are  called  an  admirable  clergy — the  first 
clergy  in  the  world.  That  sounds  very  well  ;  but  it 
is  a  mere  compliment  :  that  is,  we  do  not  merit  the 
eulogy.  Let  us  lose  no  time  in  proving  our  claim  to 
it  in  every  respect. 


28o  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

But  there  is  no  lack  of  plausible  reasons  adduced 
for  our  dispensing  with  study.  Good  God  !  the 
egregious  mistakes  and  infirmities  which  speech  has 
taken  under  its  patronage  ought  to  be  well  known  by 
us.  On  the  point  under  consideration,  the  reasons 
urged  are  various. 

The  first  is  :  "  We  would  gladly  do  it,  but,  really, 
we  have  no  time."  Now,  let  us  be  fair  here.  This  is 
quite  true  in  some  cases.  .  .  .  The  labors  and  anxie- 
ties of  the  sacred  ministry  are  absorbing,  and,  besides, 
they  cut  up  the  little  leisure  which  is  left  us  after  a 
conscientious  discharge  of  our  duty.  ...  I  say,  this 
is  true  sometimes  ;  but  very  often,  if  we  only  had  the 
will  !  .  .  .  How  is  it  with  us,  whenever  we  have  a 
strong  desire  for  any  thing  t  .  .  .  Put  the  question  to 
the  weakest  among  men,  and  you  will  learn  even 
from  them,  that  when  they  have  the  will  they  always 
find  the  way.  Come  along  with  me,  and  I  think  we 
may  succeed  in  picking  up  some  scraps  of  time,  and, 
perchance,  a  large  supply.  .  .  .  And,  first,  as  regards 
those  long  dinners  :  if  you  were  to  curtail  a  little 
from  the  commencement,  a  little  from  the  end,  and  a 
small  portion  from  the  middle,  methinks  what  re- 
mained would  be  amply  sufficient  for  that  meal. 
Dignity  is  brief  in  words,  and  at  dinner  likewise  ; 
feeling  that  it  is  endangered  by  exhibiting  itself  too 
long  and  too  near  in  the  midst  of  meats  and  drinks, 
which  savor  little  of  Gospel  mortification  :  without 


Study.  281 

taking  into  account  the  poor,  who  do  not  see  us  sit- 
ting down  at  sumptuous  tables,  while  they  are  hard 
at  work  and  fare  scantily.  ...  And  what  shall  we 
say  of  the  numberless  visits  received  and  returned, 
the  cares  which  are  self-imposed,  travelling,  certain 
kinds  of  reading,  and  inordinate  sleep  ?  In  all  these 
there  is  much  scope  for  economy.  Place  an  old 
academician,  or  a  compiler  of  works  which  nobody 
reads,  or  a  decipherer  of  illegible  manuscripts,  or  a 
bird-stuffer,  or  the  eternal  collector  of  coins  and 
butterflies,  in  the  same  position,  and  you  will  see 
how  he  will  contrive  to  save  therefrom  five  hours  a 
day  at  least.  .  .  .  And  we  who  are  called  to  save 
men's  souls  !  .  .  .  Oh,  idleness  !  idleness  !  That, 
too,  is  another  of  our  calamities.  .  .  .  The  serpent  of 
indolence,  one  of  the  vilest  beasts  in  creation,  glides 
in  everywhere.  .  .  .  What  restrains  us  is  this,  that 
we  do  not  plunge  into  study  ;  that  we  have  not  the 
taste,  the  passion  for  study.  We  can  only  attain  such 
a  temper  by  hard  work.  Let  us  break  through  the 
first  difficulties,  then  the  taste  will  come,  and  ample 
time  will  be  found.     .     .     . 

The  fact  of  a  man  having  studied  a  good  deal 
during  his  lifetime,  is  another  plea  on  the  same  side. 
It  may  not  be  expressed,  but  the  flattering  notion  is 
nev^ertheless  entertained  that  we  have  already  acquir- 
ed a  certain  amount  of  knowledge  ;  that  the  public 


282  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

are  aware  of  it,  and  have  more  than  once  compUment- 
ed  us  on  that  score. 

Yes,  one  has  studied  a  good  deal,  learnt  a  good 
deal,  and,  we  may  add,  forgotten  a  good  deal.  .  .  . 
Nothing  is  so  soon  forgotten  as  a  science  which  is 
not  cultivated. 

A  strange  habit  obtains  in  this  respect.  .  .  .  We 
judge  of  a  man's  abilities  by  what  he  was  at  college. 
He  had  ability  then  ;  but  subsequently  he  learnt 
nothing,  and  has  forgotten  much  of  what  he  did 
learn.  His  knowledge  has  dwindled  down  to  the 
wretched  just  eiiotcgh  : — a  fact  which  is  patent.  For 
all  that,  he  is  still  regarded  as  an  able  man.  .  .  . 
Another  was  rather  backward  at  college,  but  since 
then  has  worked,  striven,  and  succeeded  in  enlarging 
his  talents.  Why  should  such  an  one  be  spoken 
of  as  unapt,  while  we  venture  to  think  that  we  our- 
selves are  well  up  in  every  thing,  because  we  were 
believed  to  know  something  fifteen  years  ago } 
Moreover,  it  never  seems  to  be  borne  in  mind  that 
college  education  merely  gives  us  the  key  to  know- 
ledge and  the  taste  for  study. 

But  one  is  naturally  endowed  with  great  inge- 
nuity ;  what  need  is  there,  then,  for  so  much  appli- 
i  cation  }  The  Lord  deliver  us  from  these  gifted  men  ! 
They  are  long-winded,  tedious,  monotonous,  bom- 
bastic, and  any  thing  but  natural  ;  bearing  out  what 
we  said  above,  that  a  little  study  removes  us  from 


Study.  283 

the  natural,  whereas  much  study  draws  us  toward  it. 
Our  aim  should  be  to  have  it  remarked  of  our  dis- 
courses : — "  Really,  all  that  is  very  simple,  and  pre- 
cisely what  ought  to  have  been  said.  It  is  just  what 
I  should  have  said  myself  had  I  been  called  upon  to 
speak."  But  we  shall  not  attain  that  stage  without 
much  painstaking.  Sermons  generally  are  worth 
what  they  cost  ;  and  our  most  able  men  are  those  who 
study  most. 

The  course  sometimes  pursued  of  restricting  study 
to  one  special  subject  is  a  sorry  habit.  It  reminds 
one  very  much  of  a  young  man  whose  chief  aim  is  to 
get  his  bachelor's  degree. 

But  it  is  further  urged  :  —  "  No  complaints  are 
made  ;  on  the  contrary,  people  have  been  pleased  to 
tell  us  that  they  are  quite  delighted  with  us." 

Good  God  !  and  has  not  every  one  experienced 
the  sarme  !  Who,  indeed,  has  not  been  deluged  with 
compliments .''  Do  you  know  any  one  to  whom  the 
like  has  not  happened }  It  would  be  a  great  curios- 
ity to  discover  a  preacher,  however  wretched,  tire- 
some, and  insipid  he  may  be,  who  has  not  found  a  few 
pious  souls  to  bestow  on  him  the  alms  of  a  small 
compliment,  or  a  small  lie.  He  is  to  be  congratulat- 
ed, indeed,  if  in  addition  thereto,  after  having  listen- 
ed to  one  of  our  good  preachers,  some  of  them  do  not 
come  to  him  and  say,  with  all  the  subtlety  of  the  ser- 
pent : — "  Yes,   his   sermon  was  very  grand,  it  was 


284  J-^ic  Clergy  and  the  Piclpit. 

magnificent  ;  still,  we  like  your  excellent  and  charm- 
ing little  discourses  much  better."  There  is  no 
doubting  one's  ability  after  that  ;  and  one  is  tempted 
to  believe  himself  a  Ravignan,  or  an  unrecognized 
Lacordaire.  .  .  .  One  sees,  of  course,  that  there 
is  some  exaggeration  in  all  this:  nevertheless  he  is 
fain  to  believe  the  half  of  it  at  least.  .  .  .  Alas  ! 
flattery  is  the  ruin  of  kings — and  of  preachers  also. 

Lastly,  we  have  this  plea  : — "  I  know  quite  enough 
to  speak  to  my  own  people  ;  I  shall  always  be  superior 
to  the  good  souls  which  are  committed  to  my  charge." 
.  .  .  It  is  not  superior  to,  but  in  unison  with  them 
that  you  should  be.  .  .  .  Let  us  see,  however,  what 
your  knowledge  really  is,  in  connection  with  the  good 
souls  you  speak  of  Whenever  you  address  them 
from  the  pulpit,  is  their  attention  riveted  1  do  their 
countenances  beam,  do  their  eyes  glisten,  or  are 
they  moistened  with  tears  t  Do  you  hold  them  un- 
der the  spell  of  your  words  }  Do  you  possess  their 
souls,  together  with  your  own  .^  .  .  .  "Alas!  no," 
you  reply;  ''blockheads  that  they  are;  they  yawn, 
they  dread  the  sermon,  and  are  delighted  on  finding 
that  at  Mass  the  Gospel  is  immediately  followed  by 
the  Creed."  .  .  .  Away  to  study  !  then  ;  .  .  .  brush 
up  your  knowledge  and  your  heart  ;  betake  yourself 
once  more  to  the  study  of  your  people  ;  find  out  their 
weak  and  their  strong  points  ;  study  their  minds, 
their  manner  of  looking  at  and  apprehending  things  ; 


Study,  285 

and  then  you  will  come  forth  to  proclaim  the  truth 
pithily  and  powerfully,  and  will  take  up  your  proper 
position.  The  general  impression,  however,  appears 
to  be  that  a  preacher  has  but  to  open  his  mouth  and 
the  people  should  listen  to  him  with  ecstasy  ;  other- 
wise they  are  called  dull  and  stupid.  Instead  of 
speaking  to  them  a  language  which  they  understand, 
they  are  treated  to  a  theological  theme  amplified  ; 
whereon  they  remark: — "All  that  is  undoubtedly 
very  grand  ;  but  it  does  not  concern  us."  Or,  as  an 
operative  once  said  : — "  If  that  is  the  word  of  God,  it 
is  not  addressed  to  us  ;  it  must  be  intended  for  the 
rich."     .     .     . 

Study,  then,  is  necessary  to  qualify  us  for  doing 
good  to  all  ;  even  to  the  lower  orders,  the  poorest 
and  meanest.  We  have  remarked  elsewhere,  that  it 
is  more  difficult  to  preach  to  the  ignorant  than  to  the 
literary  :  more  preparation  is  required.  Hence  it  is  ' 
that  there  are  'more  men  fitted  to  address  the  upper  \ 
than  the  lower  classes  ;  and  yet  the  latter  form  near- 
ly the  whole  of  the  community.  .  .  .  Be  it  ours, 
then,  to  attain  that  superiority  which  knowledge 
confers  ;  whereby  also  we  shall  be  able  to  lay  hold  of 
both  small  and  great,  through  the  medium  which 
they  severally  offer  for  being  so  secured.  The  world 
thirsts  for  knowledge  ;  let  us  give  them  knowledge  ; 
let  us  make  ourselves  masters  of  knowledge,  for  then 
we  shall  undoubtedly  be   stronger  than  the  world, 


2S6  The  Clergy  and  the  Ptdpit. 

We  shall  then  be  invested  with  a  twofold  power  :  the 
power  of  human  and  the  power  of  Divine  knowledge. 
The  world  possesses  the  power  of  human  speech 
only  ;  we  shall  possess  that,  and  the  power  of  God's 
word  likewise.  In  a  word,  the  world  possesses  the 
earth  ;  absolutely  nothing  but  the  earth  :  we,  too, 
shall  possess  the  earth — and  heaven  besides. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ZEAL. 

The  Excellency  of  Zeal — Love  for  the  Body  should  be  coupled  with 
Love  for  the  Soul — The  Zeal  of  the  Wicked — How  Zeal  should  be 
exercised — Associations  of  Apprentices,  of  Operatives — Confer- 
ences of  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul,  of  Domestics,  of  Clerks,  of  the 
Young — Circulation  of  good  Books — Happy  results  of  the  same — 
The  Advantages  and  Difficulties  of  Opposition — Great  Occasions. 

There  is  a  sentiment  which  should  sustain  us,  and 
infuse  life  into  all  that  has  been  above  set  forth  ;  into 
our  studies,  our  composition,  and  into  the  Divine 
word  :  namely.  Zeal.  Zeal  is  power,  joy,  happiness, 
expectation,  reward  and  salvation,  to  the  priest  and 
to  humanity  generally. 

■  We  need  not  stop  to  prove  the  necessity  of  zeal. 
.  .  .  It  is  enjoined  on  all  men  : — U7iicinqiie  man- 
davit  Domimis  de  proximo  stco.  ...  Is  a  priest 
who  is  without  zeal  a  priest  at  all .?  Is  not  such  an 
one  rather  a  mere  man  .?  He  is  placed  here  solely  to 
keep  up  the  sacred  fi7^e  v^hich.  the  Lord  Jesus  brought 
down  to  earth  ;  and  what  must  a  cold  and  insensible 
priest  be  nowadays  in  the  midst  of  those  who  are 
perishing   through   the   vices   which   fret   and   con- 


288  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

sume  them  ?  He  is  an  almost  inconceivable  contra- 
diction.    .     .     . 

One  of  the  glories  of  Christianity  is  its  zeal  in 
ministering  to  the  wants  of  the  body  :  a  charitable 
service,  wherein  the  priest  takes  a  conspicuous  part. 
But  of  what  avail  is  it  to  succor  the  body,  if  the  soul 
is  neglected  }  Of  what  use  is  it  to  go  forth  proclaim- 
ing charity  !  charity  !  if  the  soul,  the  most  sensitive 
and  suffering  part  of  mankind,  is  abandoned  to  end- 
less misery  t  Who  can  fail  to  be  touched  with  com- 
passion at  the  sight  of  so  many  poor  creatures  who 
drudge  and  wear  themselves  out,  who  go  and  come, 
who  endure  and  curse,  unconsoled  and  hopeless  .-* 

The  greater  part  of  them,  notwithstanding,  are  not 
vicious.     Some  are  ignorant,  others  are  led  astray  ; 

.  .  many  waver  between  the  good  and  the  bad, 
only  waiting  for  a  kindly  word  to  be  addressed  to 
them  ;  for  an  outstretched  hand  ;  for  some  great 
stream  of  good  to  pass  by  them,  and  carry  them  away 
in  its  current.  How  gladly  would  they  follow  it  ! 
.  .  .  Well,  be  it  ours  to  create  such  currents  of 
truth  and  virtue  ;  be  it  ours  to  confront  human  errors 
and  passions,  and  to  arrest  their  onward  progress. 

I  fancy  that  we  stick  too  closely  to  our  own  snug 
corners,  and  to  our  own  ideas.  Yes,  we  stand  apart  ! 
.  .  and,  regarding  the  world's  progress  from 
thence,  we  naturally  find  that  it  goes  on  most  un- 
satisfactorily.    Very  likely  :     ...     we  suffer  it  to 


Zeal.  289 

be  led  by  evil  passions  ;  .  .  .  whereas  we  should 
take  our  stand  in  the  breach  as  Moses  did  ;  confront 
the  invading  vices  and  lusts,  come  to  a  hand-to-hand 
struggle  with  them,  and  cry  out  to  them  with  the 
mighty  voice  of  God  : — "  Stop  !  stop  !  you  shall  not 
carry  away  these  souls,  for  they  are  not  yours,  but 
Christ's  ;  He  has  bought  them,  and  redeemed  them 
with  his  blood  !  "...  If  such  courage,  such 
resolution,  such  vigor  as  this  was  more  common 
amongst  us,  the  aspect  of  the  world  would  speedily 
be  changed.  But,  alas  !  our  good  qualities  are  feeble  ; 
we  have  lost  the  power  to  will  ;  we  allow  ourselves 
to  be  carried  away  in  the  stream.  What  is  wanted 
nowadays  to  direct  the  world  is  not  knowledge  so 
much  as  it  is  ivill.  .  .  .  Where,  indeed,  are  we  to 
look  for  men  with  a  will  ^.     .     .     . 

If  we  needed  any  additional  consideration  to  stimu- 
late our  zeal,  we  might  say  to  ourselves  : — "  Let  us 
observe  the  world  ;  let  us  see  how  the  wicked  act." 
.  .  .  The  wicked,  indeed,  afford  us  Christians  some 
most  humiliating  and  painful  lessons,  enough  to  make 
us  hide  our  faces  from  very  shame  ;  so  much  so,  that 
we  can  wish  nothing  better  than  that  the  best  amongst 
us  might  possess  that  zeal  for  what  is  good  which  the 
wicked  evince  for  what  is  evil. 

We  censure  the  wicked,  and  are  right  in  doing 
so  ;  but  let  us  at  any  rate  do  them  this  justice,  that 
they  are  adepts  in  their  profession  :     .     .     .     they 


290  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

profess  their  opinions  boldly  ;  .  ,  .  they  are 
zealous  and  active  ;  .  .  .  they  are  energetic,  and 
ready  to  sacrifice  every  thing,  repose,  money,  liberty, 
even  life  itself  .  .  .  Then,  how  adroit  they  are  ! 
how  expert  in  making  themselves  great  with  the 
great,  and  little  with  the  little  !  A  pernicious  book 
appears  .  .  .  forthwith  it  is  put  into  an  attractive 
shape  and  embellished  with  fine  engravings  .  .  .  There 
it  is,  to  suit  the  rich  and  the  drawing-room.  .  .  . 

Next,  an  ordinary  edition  at  a  moderate  cost  is 
prepared  for  the  middle  classes,  for  reading-rooms, 
and  for  the  counter  ;  and  then  a  popular  edition — 
copies  to  be  had  at  four  sous  each — for  the  workshop 
and  the  cottage.  A  man  recently  converted,  avowed 
that  he  had  contributed  in  three  years  no  less  a  sum 
than  30,000  francs  in  the  dissemination  of  such  books. 
And  we  !..  .  we  Christians,  who  know  the  worth 
of  men's  souls,  whose  duty  it  is  to  save  them,  rest 
satisfied  with  a  few  slender  efibrts,  directed  often  by 
mere  routine  !  Shall  we  continue  any  longer  inactive 
at  the  sight  of  the  torrents  of  vice  and  error  which 
are  hurrying  our  brothers  on  to  the  abyss  .<*  Would 
that  be  to  have  faith  ?  Would  that  be  to  have  charity } 
Would  that  be  to  love  God  and  our  neighbor  1    .    .    . 

But  how  should  this  zeal  be  carried  out  into  prac- 
tice 1     That  is  the  impî)rtant  question.     .     .     . 

In  the  first  place,  associations  should  be  formed. 
In  these  days  wc  cannot  dispense  with  them. 


Zeal.  291 

Society  must  be  taken  up  in  detail,  ameliorated 
part  by  part,  and  then  formed  into  a  compact  struc- 
ture ;  for  a  good  community  can  only  be  composed 
of  good  elements.  These  objects  may  be  attained 
through  the  medium  of  associations.  There  should 
be  such  for  all  ages  :  associations  of  children,  of 
apprentices,  of  operatives,  of  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul, 
of  the  Sainte  Famille,^  etc.  They  benefit  all,  the 
members  and  the  directors  also. 

How  comes  it  that  there  are  not  associations  of 
young  apprentices  in  all  the  towns  of  France  ?  How 
comes  it  that  any  town  dares  to  be  without  one .'' 
What  strange  beings  we  are  sometimes  !  We  sur- 
round children  with  the  most  tender  and  assiduous 
care  up  to  the  time  of  confirmation,  and  then,  at  the 
most  critical  age,  when  their  passions  begin  to  cross 
them,  we  launch  them  forth,  without  support  and 
without  counterpoise,  into  that  pestilential  atmosphere 
called  the  workshop  ;  and  then  we  wonder,  and  say 
naïvely  that  they  do  not  persevere  in  the  right  path. 
.  .  .  Pray,  can  they  be  expected  to  persevere  when 
thus  left  to  their  own  resources  .^  .  .  .  You,  with  all 
your  religious  knowledge,  with  all  your  acquired  vir- 
tues, with  all  your  experience  and  age,  would  you  do 


*  See  the  Manuel  de  Charité,  and  the  Livre  des  Classes  Oiivrih'es  for 
the  details  and  manner  of  establishing  and  conducting  these  associa- 
tions. 


292  TJie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

so  in  their  place  ?  I  defy  you  to  persevere  under 
such  circumstances. 

An  affihated  society  of  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul 
should  exist  everywhere,  even  in  the  most  retired 
corner  of  France.  It  already  comprises  five  hundred 
conferences.  They  have  been  founded  in  the  coun- 
try, where  they  do  a  vast  amount  of  good.  No  town 
or  village,  at  least,  should  be  without  its  conference. 
It  is  sometimes  urged  that  the  elements  are  wanting. 
That  must  be  a  wretched  town  or  hamlet  which  can- 
not muster  three  God-fearing  and  charitably  dispos- 
ed individuals. 

Moreover,  no  town  should  be  without  its  associa- 
tion of  operatives.  There  can  no  longer  be  any  ex- 
cuse on  this  head.  They  exist  elsewhere,  are  in  ac- 
tive operation,  and  effect  much  good  in  many  places. 
The  way  to  form  and  direct  them  is  w^ell  known. 
We  have  our  associations  of  girls  and  grow^n-up  w^o- 
men  ;  but  the  men,  the  poor  men,  are  overlooked,  ne- 
glected, and  cast  aside.     .     .     . 

Lastly,  we  should  have  an  association  of  the  Saint 
Famille — an  association  for  the  poor. 

The  poor  are  so  miserable  as  they  are  owing  to  the 
ignorance  and  moral  abandonment  in  which  they  live. 
.  .  .  An  association  tends  to  enlighten,  to  support, 
to  elevate  them  ;  as  also  to  bring  charity  into  play. 
Let  no  one  tell  us  that  he  lacks  time  for  this  object. 
Time  is  given  you  especially  for  the  service  of  the 


Zeal:  293 

poor  ;  your  first  duty  is  to  evangelize  the  pour.  .  .  . 
On  the  other  hand,  are  you  anxious  to  benefit  the 
rich,  to  touch  their  hearts,  to  gain  their  confidence, 
or  even  to  secure  their  adoration — I  say,  is  such  your 
desire  ?  If  so,  busy  yourselves  on  behalf  of  the  poor, 
devote  yourselves  to  the  service  of  the  poor,  be  pop- 
ular in  a  holy  sense  ;  then,  instead  of  vegetating  in 
the  midst  of  your  fine  phrases  and  isolation,  you  will 
live  in  the  fulness  of  life.  You  will  see  around  you 
outstretched  hands,  willing  hearts,  and  open  purses, 
and  will  hear  many  a  voice  applauding  and  cheering 
you  with  a  cordial  "  Well  done  !  take  courage  !"  You 
will  be  driven  to  humble  yourself  before  God,  say- 
ing :  "  Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,0  Lord." 

Yes,  let  us  be  just  toward  the  wealthy  classes,  to- 
ward the  world  generally,  and  even  toward  those  who 
do  not  practise  religion  at  all.  Whenever  they  fall  in 
with  a  priest  who  is  friendly  to  the  poor,  they  are 
ready  to  pay  him  a  large  tribute  of  respect  and  ven- 
eration ;  and  nothing  so  much  resembles  love  toward 
God  as  the  love  which  is  shown  toward  one  of  His 
ministers. 

Other  associations  might  also  be  formed  with 
advantage.  For  example,  in  towns,  a  servants'  as- 
sociation ;  but  as  humility  is  not  one  of  our  virtues, 
either  among  high  or  low,  it  might  be  called  the 
Household  Association.  It  might  meet  on  Sunday 
— say  once  a  month — and  one  would  have  an  oppor- 


294  ^/^^  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

timity  of  telling  that  class  a  host  of  truths  which 
could  not  well  be  spoken  elsewhere  ;  and  these  poor 
people,  who  are  more  and  more  disposed  to  treat 
their  masters  as  enemies,  might  be  set  right.  It  is 
much  to  be  regretted  that  a  hostile  party  is  being 
formed  in  families  ;  which,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, might  prove  highly  dangerous.  On  the  other 
hand,  all  the  fault  does  not  come  fromi  below.  Nothing 
now  but  interest  binds  the  master  to  his  servant,  and 
servants  attach  themselves  to  those  who  give  the 
highest  wages.  As  to  probity,  fidelity,  and  discretion, 
where  are  they  to  be  found .?  .  .  .  Masters  are 
not  only  robbed,  they  are  outraged. 

Further,  a  mothers'  association.  The  duties  of  a 
mother,  more  especially  among  the  lower  classes,  are 
very  arduous.  She  requires  to  be  enlightened,  en- 
couraged, stirred  up,  and  perhaps  rebuked.  Such  an 
association  would  afford  eligible  opportunities  for  tell- 
ing themi  many  things  which  could  not  be  appro- 
priately delivered  before  a  mixed  assembly.  It  is  a 
great  misfortun.e  for  a  family  when  the  husband  for- 
gets himself  and  his  duties  ;  but  when  the  wife  gives 
way,  all  is  lost.  Is  she  not,  indeed,  the  guardian  of 
religion  and  virtue  at  the  domestic  hearth }  The  at- 
tempt thus  suggested  has  been  made  at  Bordeaux 
and  elsewhere  with  perfect  success."'' 

There  are  two  other  associations  which  should  by 

*  See  the  Mamicl  dc  Charité. 


Zeal.  295 

all  means  be  established  in  large  towns  :  namely,  an 
association  of  young  clerks,  and  an  association  of 
those  young  persons  who  are  called  shop-girls  or  girls 
of  the  counter.  These  two  classes  are  most  shame- 
fully neglected  ;  hence  their  morality  is  generally  nil 
.  .  .  and  from  the  large  towns  they  go  to  the 
smaller  towns,  and  into  the  larger  villages,  where  they 
help  to  form  that  egotistical,  sensual,  VoltaUian,  ex- 
citable, and  vain  shop-class,  ever  ready  to  disseminate 
the  vicious  lessons  which  they  have  acquired. 

It  would  be  easy  to  form  these  associations.  There 
would  be  no  difficulty  as  regards  the  young  females. 
With  respect  to  the  men,  all  that  is  required  is  a  good 
nucleus  ;  which  would  soon  be  increased  by  those 
who  are  at  a  distance  from  their  homes.  Families 
are  often  pained  at  being  obliged  to  launch  a  young 
man  alone  into  a  great  city,  and  would  feel  much 
happier  on  learning  that  there  would  be  some  to 
protect  him  against  being  led  astray,  and  who  would 
help  him  on  in  his  new  career.  Almost  all  the  young 
people  who  come  up  from  the  country  are  Christians 
up  to  the  time  of  leaving  their  homes.  Some  genial 
title  might  be  given  to  the  association,  which  would 
make  it  attractive. 

Another  great  neld  for  the  exercise  of  zeal  is  the 
diffusion  of  good  books.* 

*  See  the  Manuel  de  Charité  under  the  chapter  headed  Les  Biblio- 
thèques. 


296  The  Clergy  and  the  Pitlpit. 

This  kind  of  ministration  has  not  been  adequately 
or  generally  appreciated  hitherto.  The  ministry  of  the 
word,  which  is  proclaimed  in  our  churches,  is  recog- 
nized ;  but  that  of  the  word  which,  in  the  guise  of 
a  good  book,  goes  and  sits  down  at  the  domestic 
hearth,  is  not  understood  as  it  should  be. 

We  are,  however,  making  some  progress  in  this 
respect  ;  and  I  trust  that  the  magnitude  of  existing 
evils  may  stir  us  up  to  greater  activity,  and  that  after 
being  thoroughly  beaten  we  shall  rise  up  again  as 
becomes  Christians. 

The  Christian  of  the  present  day  is  not  constitu- 
tionally brave  ;  he  is  rather  timid,  is  subject  to  a 
number  of  little  infirmities,  and  does  all  he  can  to 
reconcile  duty  with  interest.  But  when  he  perceives 
that  he  has  been  wronged,  when  he  is  driven  to 
extremes,  he  falls  back  upon  himself,  recovers  his 
strength,  and  stands  up  for  the  faith.  Then  he  is 
grand  and  bold  ;  then  he  defends  himself,  resists, 
assails,  and  triumphs  even  in  death. 

The  time  has  come  for  us  to  avail  ourselves  of  that 
tremendous  engine  which  Providence  has  introduced 
into  the  world  for  good  and  for  evil.  Has  not  the 
Press  injured  us  enough  already  }  Has  it  not  already 
thrown  blood  and  scum  enough  at  humanity  and 
religion  }  Are  not  the  two  hundred  millions  of  per- 
nicious books  scattered  tliroughout  France  enough  } 


Zeal.  297 

Is  not  the  world  sufficiently  estranged  from  the 
Church  already  ?     What  do  we  wait  for  ? 

A  powerful  means  of  doing  good  is  here  placed 
within  our  reach.  Don't  be  deceived  ;  almost  every- 
body reads  nowadays.  Mistakes,  however,  are  fre- 
quently made  on  that  score. 

A  preacher  gives  a  retreat*  in  a  country  district, 
and  is  told  by  the  curé  that  his  people  do  not  read. 
As  the  exercises  progress,  heaps  of  books  are  forth- 
coming of  so  abominable  a  description  that  the  like 
are  not  to  be  found  in  the  purlieus  of  Paris — books 
the  very  titles  of  which  are  an  outrage  on  public 
morality. 

Let  us  here  recall  to  mind  what  has  already  been 
stated,  that  there  are  now  in  France  from  eighteen  to 
twenty  millions  more  persons  able  to  read  than  there 
were  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

But  it  is  urged  that  good  books  are  not  read. — 
That  in  a  great  measure  depends  on  the  quality  of 
the  books. 

Further,  that  after  reading  them,  men  are  just  the 
same  as  they  were.  Not  always  ;  and  who  can  tell 
but  that  some  thought  has  taken  root  in  their  minds 
which  in  time  will  bear  fruit  .^  There  are  books  which 
have  wrought  many  conversions  ;  which  in  the  course 
of  a  few  years  have  reclaimed  more  individuals  than 

*  A  series  of  special  religious  services. — Ed. 


298  Tlie  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

our  most  celebrated  preachers  have  converted  during 
their  Hves.  I  may  instance  one  which  is  universally 
known,  which  has  been  and  still  is  the  angel  of  good 
to  many  perishing  sinners  ;  yes,  and  such  sinners  too  ! 
such  men  !  You  have  already  guessed  the  title  of  the 
book  alluded  to — it  is  the  Eticdes  PhilosopJiiqttes  by 
M.  Nicholas.* 

Sober  town  curés  have  expressed  to  us  their  belief 
that  they  have  effected  more  good  among  their  people 
by  means  of  their  libraries,  than  by  their  sermons  and 
all  the  other  resources  of  the  ministry  combined. 

But  these  books  should  be  selected  with  great  care  : 
nevertheless,  very  little  attention  is  bestowed  on  that 
point.  How  strange  !  One  takes  great  pains  about 
a  sermon,  which  will  be  heard  at  most  by  a  few 
hundreds  of  individuals,  and  no  care  is  exercised  in 
the  selection  of  a  book  which  will  go  to  speak  of  God 
to  the  thousands  who  do  not  frequent  the  Church  ! 
At  the  yearly  distribution  of  prizes  in  France,  twelve 
hundred  thousand  volumes  are  given  gratuitously  to 
respectable  schools.     What  a  vast  amount  of  good 


*  A  person  holding  a  high  position  wrote  to  the  author  of  the  above- 
named  work  as  follows  : — "  From  being  wholly  indifferent  to  religion, 
you  have  made  me,  in  a  fortnight,  a  fervent  Christian,  one  sincerely 
repentant,  and  firmly  determined  to  lead  a  holy  life,"  .  .  .  Another 
addressed  him  thus  : — "  I  owe  a  great  share  "of  my  restoration  to  your 
book,  which  I  shall  try  and  induce  all  my  relations  and  friends  to 
read." 


Zeal,  299 

might  be  done  through  that  channel,  if  the  books  were 
well  chosen  !  What  a  mass  of  profitable  reading  might 
be  introduced  thereby  among  families  !  But  as  it  is, 
the  works  are  taken  up  at  random.  A  book  receives 
a  bishop's  approval  ;  which  is  deemed  amply  sufficient 
to  warrant  its  adoption.  It  may  be  barren  of  ideas, 
tiresome,  nothing  more  than  a  bad  religious  romance  ; 
it  may  even  be  dangerous  :  no  matter,  it  is  given  away, 
notwithstanding  all  those  defects.  But  what  is  passing 
strange  is  the  fact  that  this  is  done  by  men  who  have 
a  religious  vocation,  who  are  otherwise  most  distin- 
guished, and  who  are  intrusted  with  the  education  of 
the  children  of  the  upper  classes.  It  would  seem, 
indeed,  as  if  we  were  bent  on  verifying  the  assertion 
of  our  adversaries,  that  the  pious  possess  no  other 
than  a  contemptible  and  humdrum  literature. 

It  would  be  an  act  of  intelligent  zeal  to  remedy 
these  aberrations. 

Lastly,  another  way  of  promoting  the  diffusion  of 
good  books  is  to  give  men  a  personal  interest  in  the 
undertaking.  Authors  and  pubhshers  should  be 
amply  commended  and  remunerated  for  their  coope- 
ration ;  and  the  trade — if  you  choose  to  call  it  so — 
made  subservient  to  the  good  work.  Let  those,  also, 
who  sell  such  books  make  large  profits  by  the  sale. 
Generally  speaking,  success  is  not  best  attained  by 
acting  alone,  but  by  securing  and  availing  ourselves 
of  the  assistance  of   others.     We   often   make   too 


300  The  Clergy  and  the  Ptilpit. 

much  fuss  about  our  proceedings,  and  should  effect 
twice  as  much  if  we  fussed  one  half  less. 

But  it  will  be  urged  : — "  Such  associations  cannot 
be  formed  without  self-sacrifice  and  money  ;  besides, 
they  will  encounter  opposition."  Undoubtedly  they 
will  ;  and  so  much  the  better.  Opposition  and  cal- 
umny are  the  rod  which  God  uses  to  drive  us  on- 
ward. ...  If  there  be  opposition,  then  there  will 
be  courage  too  ;  and  many  other  noble  qualities  will 
be  elicited.  Is  it  so,  I  ask,  that  we  are  called  to 
"  vulgarly  follow  the  masses"  t     .     .     . 

There  is  a  class  of  well-disposed  people,  who  ap- 
pear to  have  no  misgivings  as  to  what  Christianity 
is,  who,  nevertheless,  give  expression  to  their  supine- 
ness  with  a  charming  naïveté.  You  propose  some 
good  work  to  them  ;  they  reply  at  once  : — "  Excuse 
me  ;  there  will  be  obstacles  in  the  way  ;  the  time  has 
not  yet  come  for  such  things  ;  and,  moreover,  I 
should  not  like  to  put  myself  forward  in  matters  of 
that  kind,  for  it  might  place  me  in  an  awkward  posi- 
tion." One  feels  tempted  on  these  occasions  to  ask 
the  apologist  : — "  Are  you  a  Christian  T  You  may 
do  so,  and  the  ready  reply  will  be  : — "  Yes,  by  the 
grace  of  God." 

What,  then,  do  you  understand  by  being  a  Chris- 
tian ? 

One  who  believes  in  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  has 
been  baptized.     .     .     . 


Zeal.  301 

Now,  listen  to  what  the  doctrine  of  Christ  is  : — 
Blessed  are  they  who  are  persecuted.  Blessed  are 
ye  when  men  shall  revile  you. — when  they  shall  drag 
you  before  the  rulers  of  the  people.     .     .     . 

I  think  there  is  a  prevailing  tendency  to  regard 
those  texts  of  Holy  Writ  which  embarrass  us  as 
mere  rhetorical  figures. 

Men  talk  of  the  possibility  of  being  placed  in  a 
false  position — that  the  time  has  not  come — that 
there  will  be  opposition,  etc.  In  like  manner,  when 
Christ  sent  His  apostles  to  convert  the  world,  might 
they  not  also  have  said  : — "  But,  Lord,  the  world  is 
not  prepared  ;  it  is  still  so  insensible.  Besides,  we 
shall  encounter  opposition  T  .  .  .  Or,  when  their 
shoulders  were  beaten  with  rods,  might  they  not 
have  felt  justified  in  saying  : — 

"  Let  us  return  to  our  own  quiet  life,  for  this  only 
brings  us  into  difficulties"  '^. 

Is  not  a  priest's  life  essentially  a  militant  life  t  Is 
not  the  priest  a  soldier.'*  What  would  be  said, 
what  would  be  thought  of  a  soldier  who,  on  hearing 
the  alarm,  the  enemy  !  to  arms  !  should  coolly  reply  : 
— "  Stop,  there  will  be  opposition  ;  the  enemy  will 
resist  and  assail  us  with  musketry  and  artillery  T 
There  would  only  be  one  name  for  such  a  soldier  in 
France — he  would  be  called  a  coward.  But  no  such 
soldier  is  to  be  found  amongst  us  ;  on  the  contrary, 
at  the  bare  thought  of  opposition  and  resistance  to 


302  The  Clergy  and  the  Piilpit. 

be  encountered,  his  courage  rises,  his  heart  leaps,  he 
runs,  he  strikes,  he  conquers,  or  he  dies  a  glorious 
death.  That  is  what  a  priest  ought  to  be  ;  .  .  . 
better  still  ;  he  should  feel  that  he  is  safe  beneath 
the  power  of  the  Almighty  ;  and  be  like  a  general 
who  maintains  perfect  calm  while  shot,  shell,  and 
death,  are  flying  around  him  in  every  direction. 

Good  God  !  what  have  we  to  do  with  peace  }  Peace 
will  never  be  yours.  .  .  .  Talk  of  peace  to  men  who 
are  conquerors  !  .  .  .  Was  it  not  said  in  a  celebrated 
harangue  : — "  We  are  the  first  soldiers  .  .  .  and  yet 
they  come  to  talk  to  us  of  peace  !"  The  priest  is  a 
jeopardized,  a  sacrificed  man,  dead  to  the  life  of  this 
world,  to  whom  it  has  been  said  : — "  Go  and  defend 
such  a  post,  and  die  to  save,  not  an  army,  but  hu- 
manity." Be  assured,  then,  that  you  will  never  have 
peace,  because  human  passions  will  eternally  war 
against  you. 

We  have  borrowed  two  things  from  the  present 
age — and  those  by  no  means  the  best  of  what  it  pos- 
sesses— which  do  us  a  vast  amount  of  injury.  The 
first  is,  a  profound  weakness  of  character,  which  pre- 
fers a  petty,  vulgar,  and  rather  sensual  existence,  dis- 
posing us  to  lead  the  life  of  a  retired  tradesman. 
The  second  is  a  tendency  to  officialism.  We  blame 
that  tendency  in  others  ;  but  are  we  not  somewhat 
bureaucratic  ourselves  }  We  consider  those  among 
us  to  be  great  men  who  are  what   is  called   good 


Zeal.  303 

administrators.  The  accessory  has  usurped  the 
place  of  principal.  Administration  is  every  thing  : 
in  certain  localities  it  stifles  the  sacred  ministry.  If 
Saint  Paul  himself  were  to  return  to  earth,  he  would 
hardly  be  deemed  fit  to  be  the  curé  of  a  canton, 
unless  he  was  judged  to  be  well  versed  in  administra- 
tion. 

Yet  when  Christ  placed  Saint  Peter  at  the  head 
of  His  Church,  he  did  not  put  the  question  to  him  : — 
"  Canst  thou  administer  well .''"  but,  "  Lovest  thou 
Me  }  lovest  thou  Me  1  Art  thou  quite  sure  that  thou 
lovest  Me  T — that  is.  Dost  thou  know  how  to  save 
the  souls  of  men  1  how  to  devote  thyself,  how  to  die 
for  their  sakes  1 

This  brings  us  back  again  to  the  subject  of  zeal. 
There  are  many  earnest-minded  priests  in  France — ■ 
most  admirable  men  in  every  respect.  Among  the 
laity  also,  there  is  no  lack  of  zeal,  devotion,  and  the 
spirit  of  self-sacrifice  ...  A  Christian  who  has  no 
zeal  is  not  tolerated  :  in  fact,  there  is  much  more  of 
it  than  is  generally  supposed. 

Now,  something  like  this  frequently  happens  : — 
On  going  to  a  town  which  has  hitherto  exhibited  no 
signs  of  zeal,  you  ask  the  priest  : — "  How  comes  it 
that  you  have  no  associations,  no  society  of  appren- 
tices, of  operatives,  or  of  the  Sainte  Famille  ?  What 
are  you  about  .^  It  is  a  shame  !"  .  .  .  He  will 
reply  : — "  How  can  I  help  it  ?     I  have  no  colleagues, 


304  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

and  no  laymen  are  available.  Besides,  our  people  do 
not  like  to  be  drawn  out  of  their  old  habits  :  it  is  not 
with  us  as  it  is  elsewhere."  .  .  .  You  then  make 
the  same  observations  to  the  laymen,  and  they  imme- 
diately answer  : — "  Pray,  don't  mention  it,  for  it  is 
not  our  fault.  We  should  like  nothing  better  ;  but 
we  have  no  priests  to  take  the  lead,  and  to  tell  us 
how  to  act.  Our  priests  are  excellent  men  in  their 
way,  but  they  cannot  step  ont  of  tJieir  routiner 

It  should  be  our  endeavor,  therefore,  to  bring 
priests  and  laymen  together  ;  then  there  will  be  a 
mutual  understanding  between  them,  and  both  will 
heartily  cooperate  in  doing  good. 

For,  at  any  cost,  we  must  save  souls.  That  is  our 
duty,  our  joy,  our  crown,  that  whereon  our  whole 
future  depends  ;  and  what  is  said  of  men  of  the  world, 
who  have  made  a  false  step  in  life,  will  be  said  of  the 
priest  who  fails  in  that  respect — he  has  lost  his 
chance. 

We  should  take  advantage  of  every  opportunity  to 
benefit  the  souls  of  men  ;  to  enlighten,  to  reclaim, 
to  reconcile  them.  A  confirmation,  for  example,  as- 
sociated as  it  is  with  so  many  sweet  and  sad  remini- 
scences, offers  a  most  eligible  occasion  for  such  ef- 
forts. But  beware  of  all  vulgar  vituperation  of  unbe- 
lievers, or  of  the  parents.  They  are  on  the  look-out 
for  such  tirades,  and  have  already  hardened  their 
hearts  and  their  faces  against  them.     Rather  aim  at 


Zeal.  305 

their  hearts,  where  they  least  expect  an  attack,  and 
where  they  are  not  prepared  to  resist  you. 

After  stating  that  God  will  require  a  strict  account 
of  parents  for  the  manner  in  which  their  children  have 
been  brought  up,  turn  at  once  to  the  parents  and 
say  : — 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,  for  I  am  not  going  to  reproach 
you.  I  would  not  disturb  your  present  happiness.  I 
would  not  detract  one  iota  from  your  gratification. 
Enjoy  it  thoroughly,  for  you  have  a  right  to  it  ;  it 
is  but  a  slender  recompense  for  all  your  pains.  Look 
at  your  children,  they  are  happy,  and  they  owe  their 
happiness  to  religion.  No,  I  cannot  bring  myself  to 
utter  any  thing  which  might  trouble  you  on  this  oc- 
casion ;  for  it  must  have  cost  you  pain  enough  already 
to  see  your  children  go  alone  to  the  holy  table,  abso- 
lutely like  orphans,  while  you  yourselves  stand  apart, 
and  are  driven  to  say  : — '  Yes,  my  child  is  worthy  to 
be  there,  but  I  am  not.'  ...  I  say,  such  a  reflec- 
tion as  this  must  have  caused  you  intense  sorrow. 

"  Nevertheless,  you  are  not  so  much  estranged  from 
religion  as  you  may  think  :  God  is  not  far  from  you. 
One  always  loves  his  child's  friend,  and  your  child's 
best  friend  is  God.  .  .  .  Can  you  repel  religion, 
can  you  repulse  God  himself,  whom  we  are  about  to 
send  to  you  this  evening  in  the  angelic  form  of  a  dearly 
loved  child  1  Draw  near  then  to  the  Gospel  .  .  . 
carry  away  with  you,  at  least,  some  pious  sentiment, 


306  The  Clergy  and  the  Pulpit. 

some  wholesome  regret,  some  incipient  desire  after 
that  which  is  good."  .  .  .  Adopt  some  such  strain 
as  this,  and  your  words  will  not  be  in  vain. 

Similar  efforts  might  be  made  on  the  termination 
of  the  special  services  for  Lent  and  the  great  eccle- 
siastical seasons,  and  on  other  extraordinary  occasions 
also.  After  congratulating  those  who  have  profited 
by  the  means  of  grace,  be  careful  to  abstain  from 
upbraiding  or  denouncing  those  who  have  abused 
them.  Such  a  course  is  low  and  vulgar,  and  does 
much  harm.  On  the  contrary,  do  all  you  can  to  en- 
courage and  touch  the  hearts  of  all.  I  may  suggest 
the  following.  Say  what  a  pious  and  zealous  religieux 
once  said  to  his  audience,  at  the  end  of  a  home 
mission  : — 

"  Brethren,  I  am  going  to  tell  you  an  anecdote.  It 
is  not  true,  for  the  details  are  impossible.  It  is  merely 
a  parable. 

"  It  is  alleged  that  there  is  a  country  near  the 
north  pole,  where  it  is  so  cold  that  words  are  frozen 
as  they  issue  from  the  lips.  If  two  men  placed  apart 
at  a  certain  distance  attempt  to  converse,  they  do  not 
hear  one  another,  for  their  words  freeze  in  the  air. 
But  when  spring  comes,  then  their  words  are  heard. 

"  Brethren,  it  is  cold  too  and  icy  round  your  souls, 
and  our  words  freeze  ;  but  when  spring  comes,  when 
God's  sun  shall  shine,  then  these  our  words  will  thaw 


Zeal.  307 

and  penetrate  into  your  hearts,  even  though  it  be  not 
till  the  hour  of  death." 

Thus,  let  there  be  an  outburst  of  love  and  kindli- 
ness toward  those  who  have  been  edified  by  the  means 
of  grace,  and  a  still  larger  and  more  afifectionate 
appeal  to  those  who  seemingly  have  not  profited 
thereby. — "  What  shall  I  say  to  you  }  Shall  I  address 
you  in  the  language  of  severity  ?  I  might  claim  the 
right  to  do  so  in  God's  name  ;  but  certainly  I  have 
no  desire  to  avail  myself  of  that  prerogative.  I  prefer 
holding  out  a  hand  to  you  ;  I  prefer  pitying,  commi- 
serating your  misfortune.  It  would  have  been  de- 
lightful for  me  to  have  been  the  instrument  of  your 
salvation  ;  but  you  would  not  let  me  save  you. 
Doubtless,  God  has  not  judged  me  worthy  ;  although 
my  mission  here  embraced  you  also.  .  .  .  Another, 
I  trust,  will  be  more  successful.  ...  Be  assured 
that  I  entertain  no  ill-will  toward  you  :  I  do  not 
denounce  you  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  shall  ever  pray  for 
you. 

"  Draw  a  little  nearer  toward  religion.  In  your 
calmer  moments  you  sometimes  say  : — '  I  do  not  wish 
to  die  without  the  consolations  of  religion.  Were  I 
to  fall  sick,  I  should  send  for  a  priest.'  Well,  then, 
dispose  yourself  to  return  to  the  right  path  :  curb 
your  passions,  and  break  off  those  habits  which 
poison  your  existence.  Above  all,  do  not  be  a  stum- 
bling-block to  your  children.     How  often,  as  you  well 


308  The  Clergy  and  the  Pidpit. 

know,  alas  !  are  fathers  the  ruin  of  their  offspring. 
Tlierefore  have  pity  on  your  children,  and  on  your 
wives  also  ;  for  I  whisper  it  to  you  that  you  are  said 
to  be  sometimes  harsh  toward  them.  Ah,  the  poor 
wives  !  such  treatment  must  be  very  painful  to  them  : 
they  who  have  already  suffered  and  endured  so  much." 
That  is  the  way  to  appeal  to  the  hearts  of  men  ! 
Such  are  the  joys  of  the  sacred  ministry  !  They  are 
the  only  joys  vouchsafed  to  us  :  and  yet  can  we  dare 
to  complain  1  Are  they  not  the  most  delectable  joys 
which  earth  can  afford  }  To  have  committed  to  him 
the  souls  of  poor  sinners  to  save,  to  love,  and  to  bless  ; 
to  be  charged  with  condescending  toward  his  erring 
brethren  ;  gathering  them  in  his  arms  amidst  the 
miseries  and  sufferings  of  this  life,  and  of  leading 
them  to  the  truth,  to  virtue,  and  to  heaven, — is  not 
this  the  sweetest  enjoyment  which  a  priest's  heart 
can  desire  }  Was  it  not  to  that  end  that  he  bade 
adieu  to  the  world  and  left  his  father  and  his  mother 
in  tears  .?  .  .  .  O  holy  joys  of  the  sacred  ministry, 
how  little  are  they  known  and  felt  by  any  of  us  !  It 
is  painful,  doubtless,  to  have  to  stir  up  sin-sick  souls  ; 
but  when  at  the  cost  of  much  self-sacrifice  we  are 
able  to  benefit  but  one  such  soul,  with  what  overflow- 
ing gratitude  shall  we  thank  God,  and  say  : 


"May  all  my  days  be  like  this  day!" 


g- 


mrm 


•v^" 


''.u' 


;.*  •■  V';  - 


